The Subterfuge
by Murai-Sakura
Summary: AU following GoF. When Dudley is admitted to St Mungo's for an extended stay because of Harry, Snape has to step in to take his place as to not arouse suspicion among the muggles. Can Harry keep his home life hidden? And why does he keep blacking out at Hogwarts? Snape mentors Harry fic. No slash. Abusive Dursleys. Warning: suicidal thoughts and Graphic violence. COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

_Hello everyone! And welcome to the first chapter of my new mentor fic. After completing my 'The potions -" series, it's such good fun to start out with something new and I hope that you'll enjoy this story as well._

_**Important note**: Those who are already familiar with my work might be expecting me to update daily, as I've done in the past. Sadly, that is not going to be the case. Starting now, I'll be doing weekly updates so you'll be able to read a new chapter every Friday._

_**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Harry Potter characters or the world in which they live. All I own is the story and I don't make any money writing this.**_

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**The Subterfuge**

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**Chapter 1**

Even though summer had just begun, it was a dreary day. The clouds ran thickly across the sky, their grey colour scheme prophesising a storm or at the very least a heavy downpour. There was nary a soul to be found in the park leaving only the wind to play softly with the contraptions that children typically found amusing.

There was but one boy present on the playground. One of his most distinctive features – besides the obvious scar on his forehead shaped like a lightning bolt – was the emerald green of his eyes. Until recently they had been full of laughter and life but now they exuded only pain and anguish.

Harry Potter sat sideways on one of the swings, shifting his heels in the sand as he stared at his left arm. The remains of a long, jagged cut were clearly visible. Harry was sure that it would become a nasty scar that would never really go away, much like Voldemort would never go away. That's how it seemed to Harry, anyway.

The first drops of rain began to fall but they didn't bother Harry. He shifted to rest his forehead against one of the ropes that kept the swing aloft, thinking – as he had done for most of his first week back – about Cedric. The kind-hearted Hufflepuff didn't have to die. If Harry hadn't told him to take the cup with him, he would be home with his dad right now. Harry clenched his fist thinking of the lifeless gaze that had been in Cedric's eyes. He would never be able to unsee that.

More drops fell onto Harry's hands as he looked at them. It took another moment for him to realize that they did not come from the skies but found their origin in emeralds.

The sound of laughter brought Harry out of his reveries. He looked up to see five tall boys coming towards him, shoving each other playfully in the process. He sighed and averted his gaze, knowing that running wouldn't work. Maybe ignoring them would make them go away.

"Hey, freak!" Dudley yelled unnecessarily. With no one else around, Harry could hear him perfectly, even if he spoke normally. In any case, Harry did not dignify his greeting with a response. He didn't even raise his eyes to meet those of his oversized cousin.

"He's ignoring you, big D," Dennis told Dudley. "I think he's not afraid of you anymore."

"Oh, he's scared alright," Dudley growled. "In fact, he's _so_ scared that he can't even speak. Isn't that right, freak?"

Harry clenched his hands around the rope but continued to ignore Dudley. '_Just go away,_' he thought desperately.

"Say something," Dudley growled. He took a hard step forward and pushed Harry, causing him to fall sideways off the swing, his left leg still hooked around the seat. This elicited some exaggerated roars of laughter from Dudley's gang as Harry clumsily unhooked his foot and got up.

Not wanting to be a part of whatever this was, Harry ducked his head, turned around and made to walk away when he was grabbed by his upper arm. He hissed in pain when Dudley pressed down hard on the bruise he had received from Vernon just the previous day.

"And where do you think you're going?" Dudley growled. "I did not give you permission to leave."

"I'm not one of your lackeys, Dudders," Harry snarled. "I don't _need_ your permission."

Piers and Gordon snickered at the nickname, and Dudley became very red in the face, much like Uncle Vernon when he was angry about something. Without warning, he raised his fist and connected it with Harry's stomach who doubled over in pain. Who had ever thought that teaching Dudley how to box was a good idea?

"Don't call me that, freak!" Dudley exclaimed. "You will treat me with the respect I deserve or face the consequences."

"Consequences?" Harry replied, a voice in the back of his mind begging him to stop provoking his cousin. "I didn't know you knew any words that big. Are you sure you used that right?"

Dudley punched him again, connecting painfully with Harry's ribs this time causing him to fall over because of the impact. He coughed a couple of times as he tried to regain his lost breath and looked up at Dudley in defiance.

"Look at you," Dudley said coldly. "You're an outcast. A freak. You have no parents and mine hate to have you around. No one wants you." Dudley kneeled down next to Harry, his nostrils flaring. "In fact, I don't think anyone would care if you died. Do you?"

Harry tried to get up but Dudley just pushed him back down.

"You'd best be careful," Harry warned. "If you don't, I will –"

Dudley laughed before Harry could even finish his sentence. "There's nothing you can do, you idiot," he said. "Don't you think I know that?" He glanced at his cohorts over his shoulder, grabbed Harry by the collar and pulled him close enough so he could whisper into his ear. "Go ahead," he hissed. "Go and get yourself expelled. I'm sure that killer you're screaming about in your sleep will get to you in no time. And none of us will stand in his way."

He released Harry and got back to his feet. "We've been here long enough," Dudley said. "It's starting to rain and It's getting late. Let's go home. I'm getting hungry."

Harry couldn't help but snort at that comment. Unfortunately for him, Dudley had heard him. His cohorts all shared a look and were smirking at each other as if they knew something good was about to happen.

"Problem, Potter?" Dudley spat.

This time, Harry did manage to scramble to his feet, vaguely aware of his aching ribs as he glared at his cousin.

"You obviously don't need any more feeding, Dudders," he challenged. '_Shut up, Harry,_' the little voice inside of him begged. "In fact, by now I think you could go on a hunger strike for a year and not starve to death."

"What exactly are you saying?" Dudley asked, his tone dangerous.

"I'll use small words this time," Harry said slowly. "You. Are. Fat."

If ever Dudley had struck a likeness to his father, _that_ moment was certainly it. His face turned a shade of purple that was almost unnatural, his beady eyes practically popping out of their skull in rage. His nostrils were flaring dangerously as his hands clenched and unclenched. Harry noticed that Dudley's gang had not laughed. They were now remarkably silent, waiting for the storm to come. Harry knew that he had gone too far.

With the agility of an illusionist, Dudley procured a switchblade from the inner pocket of his vest, releasing the blade with an audible click.

"Care to say that again?" Dudley asked, his voice dangerously low. Harry swallowed and backed up a few steps. He had known that Dudley had a switchblade, sure. But he had never expected the oversized whale to ever actually use it on anyone. It was just for show, wasn't it?

Dudley slashed the blade in Harry's direction who threw his body back to narrowly avoid the weapon. "Dudley," Harry gasped. "Stop it."

"Big D," Dennis said doubtfully. "Maybe you should –"

A fierce glare from Dudley shut his friend up before he refocused his attention on his cousin. A scrawny kid who – without his wand – was completely defenceless to stand up to his cousin.

"We've put up with you for far too long," Dudley growled. "You're an ungrateful freak who takes everything he gets for granted. And now you dare to insult me? ME?"

The blade slashed again but once again Harry managed to dodge it. He was much more light on his feet than his cousin was and if he could just stay calm, he was sure that he could evade his cousin's wrath until he had calmed down somewhat. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Piers circling around him. Dennis, Gordon and Malcolm stayed firmly in place, clearly not sure what to make of this.

"Stop scurrying," Dudley growled. He stabbed the blade in Harry's direction and nearly made contact because Harry was also trying to keep an eye on Piers.

"And get stabbed?" Harry countered, his eyes now trained on the blade. "Do you think I'm crazy?"

"I think you're dead!" Dudley hollered. Suddenly, Harry felt someone grab his arms from behind and twist them into an angry hold. Dudley charged forward at Harry who saw it happen as if it were in slow motion. He could see the stray raindrops on Dudley's face, and the slightly darker colour of the fabric on his shoulders where the rain had already soaked him. The angry glint in his eyes was not as scary as the malicious grin he wore at the prospect of puncturing Harry a couple of times at least.

As he thrust the blade forward, his fist clenching around the tool twisted and Harry could only imagine how much damage that would do when it connected. He could feel his own throat constrict with fear and his heart pounding in his chest, racing as if it could outrun time.

And then it stopped.

As did Dudley.

For a mind-numbing second, Harry's consciousness was attacked by stimuli. The roaring of heavy rain assaulted his eardrums. The sudden absence of pain told him that his arms had been released and it was all he could do to catch himself when his balance suddenly shifted dramatically. He could see Dudley's halted movements, his offending fist still outstretched but it didn't move. The eyes that had been full of rage only seconds before were now fearful.

That's when Harry realised just why Dudley had stopped moving. From the waist down, his limbs seemed to have been transformed into bark and tree roots, some of which stretched to his arms, constricting them to stop their motion. Leaves were starting to sprout from Dudley's pores and branches were starting to grow on the top of his head as if he were producing some strange sort of antlers.

Harry watched his cousin's transformation with an entirely new kind of fear when screaming shook him out of his reverie. Dudley's gang had started running as if the devil himself was after them. The four of them made to the northern exit of the playground when the sound of a car backfiring and the sudden appearance of a cloaked figure stopped them in their tracks. He whipped out a wand, flicked it once and all four boys fell to the ground in an unconscious heap.

The man – a tall wizard with short brown hair – then laid eyes on Harry and walked over to him. Harry ignored the pathetic whimpering of his cousin and stepped away from the arboreal miscreation to meet the wizard. He certainly didn't seem dangerous. He had more of an official air about him. And Harry knew that all he would need to fear from him was expulsion and possibly persecution.

"Mr Harry Potter, I presume," the man said smartly, his eyes barely flickering to look at Harry's scar.

"Yes, sir," Harry said.

"I am Auror Brown," the man said. "I have come here because you cast a transfiguration hex on a muggle." His cold eyes locked onto Harry's. "Have you anything to say for yourself?"

"It wasn't on purpose," Harry said, trying his best to remain calm. "I didn't even have my wand on me. But Dudley – well – he attacked me. He really wanted to hurt me! If you'll come see, he's still holding the knife."

Brown nodded and took a closer look at Dudley, whose eyes betrayed nothing but sheer terror. In his frozen state, he had indeed not been able to let go of the knife, which Brown took notice of.

"You do realize that you are allowed to protect yourself, even when underage, don't you?" he asked, frowning at Harry.

"I told you that I didn't have my wand," Harry said desperately. "I didn't exactly expect my cousin to jump me so close to my own home."

"Rarely do we suspect to be attacked, Mr Potter," Brown said sternly. "That's why you should always carry your wand with you."

Harry clamped his mouth shut. He didn't exactly want to tell the Auror that his wand had been locked away by his uncle, right alongside his other magical items.

Brown sighed deeply. "Partial transformations – especially when performed with accidental magic – are particularly tricky to undo," he said. "The transfiguration wasn't even one of another animal. A mammal would have been an easy fix. Even a bird or reptilian would have been relatively fine. But this? A half-transfiguration of a human into a tree? This is a different matter entirely."

Harry frowned. "You can fix him, though. Right?" he asked desperately. If the Auror couldn't, his aunt and uncle would surely kill him. And even if he did, Vernon would still likely beat him within an inch of his life.

"This is not something I can do," Brown admitted sternly. "He will have to be admitted to St Mungo's and he will have to stay there until they have been able to undo what you did."

"How long will that take?" Harry asked, fiddling with his oversized shirt.

"It could take weeks," Brown replied. "Months even, if you're unlucky. These things need to be handled carefully."

"But people will notice his absence," Harry objected. "What would I tell them?"

"We'll handle that in a moment, Mr Potter," Brown sighed. "But first, I must deal with the other four muggles I apprehended. We can't have them spreading stories about what they witnessed today, can we?"

Harry nodded as the man walked back over to Dudley's gang. In the meantime, Harry took his seat on the swing, not caring at all about the rain that had now soaked him to the bone.

"Well, Big D," he said to his cousin. "It looks like we've really done it this time."

Dudley whimpered and Harry couldn't help but roll his eyes.

"Don't whine," he said sternly. "You heard Auror Brown. It might take a while but you'll be good as new in time. But me? I don't need to tell you what your dad will do to me when he finds out."

Dudley remained silent but the rage in his eyes was telling.

"Oh, you think that I deserve it, do you?" Harry challenged. "If you hadn't come at me with a knife, I wouldn't have had to do anything. A knife, Dudley! What were you thinking?"

Dudley exhaled harshly and Harry found himself vaguely wondering if his cousin would be performing photosynthesis as well for a while.

"Don't give me that look," Harry chided, feeling empowered now that his cousin was defenceless. "You really could have killed me! And even though no one here in Surrey likes me, I have friends in the wizarding world. Do you really think they would have let you get away with it?"

Harry watched as Brown woke up Dudley's gang one by one, waving his wand to no doubt cast some memory charms.

"I really don't know what I ever did to you, you know?" Harry continued. "Besides this, of course." Harry chuckled at Dudley's misfortune. "Perhaps a stay at St Mungo's will make you less afraid of magic, won't it?" he continued. "Maybe you'll find out just what a prat you've been."

Dudley snorted as if he didn't believe it and kept staring at Harry.

"No, I don't really believe you will, either," Harry sighed. "Just try not to upset any other wizards. At St Mungo's they're not restricted and can use magic as much as they want."

This made the fear in Dudley's eyes return and Harry smirked at his little victory. He knew that he shouldn't amuse himself with Dudley's misfortune too much but he would pay the price for it soon enough.

When Brown had finally sent all four boys on their way, their memories sufficiently altered, he stepped back over to Harry and Dudley and regarded the tree-muggle appraisingly.

"I think it's best that you wait right here while I sort this out," Brown told Harry without taking his eyes off of Dudley. "I'm not sure what protocol is when something like this happens, but I'm certain that something can be worked out."

Even though the rain was pouring down on Harry aggressively, he really didn't want to return to the Dursleys without his cousin so he readily agreed to wait.

"Good," Brown nodded his approval. He placed his hand on Dudley's shoulder – which was still largely human – and apparated on the spot. Only the cracked path where Dudley's new roots had been were evidence of the magic that had just occurred.

Harry sighed and sat down underneath a big tree, trying to shield himself from the sky's onslaught, wondering how in the world he had ended up in this mess.

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Somehow, Harry had managed to fall asleep as he waited for the Auror to return. He realised this as he was rudely awoken by a rough, baritone voice and a shove to his shoulder.

"Potter, get up!" the voice snarled and Harry groggily thought that the voice sounded a lot like the one of his most hated professor.

He blearily blinked as he righted himself. The rain seemed to have lessened in ferocity to that of a mild drizzle. He looked up only to see the Potions Master himself come into focus. Harry couldn't help but frown.

"Snape?" he asked in confusion.

"Even when we don't find ourselves in the confines of Hogwarts, I expect you to refer to me as Professor or Sir," Snape said icily. "Now I advise you to get up before you catch pneumonia and die on the spot."

"I didn't think you'd care," Harry growled.

Snape scoffed and crossed his arms. "I assure you that I would not shed a single tear should you drop dead tomorrow, but there are a great many people who risk their lives on a daily basis to make sure that you stay safe. Sleeping underneath a tree in the pouring rain seems like a bad way to repay their efforts. As is transfiguring the better part of your cousin into a tree."

"I didn't mean to!" Harry argued, jumping to his feet.

"Honestly, Potter," Snape snarled. "You're getting to be a bit too old for these random bouts of accidental magic. You're supposed to have your magic under control by now. Though I suppose I should have expected you to once again be the exception to the rule."

Snape crossed his arms and regarded Harry with an absolutely hateful glare. "Tell me, Potter. Did you enjoy attacking your cousin?"

"You don't even know what happened!" Harry shouted. "You just come here assuming that – hold on, why _are_ you here?"

Snape fixed Harry with a pointed glare.

"Sir," Harry added defiantly.

Snape raised his eyes heavenward as if he was praying for the gods to give him strength before replying. "I was sent here to help deal with your little… temper tantrum."

Harry glared at Snape. It had not been a temper tantrum. He had genuinely been afraid for his life. But he wasn't about to tell Snape that. He'd rather drop dead than admit to Snape his fears.

"Dudley has been taken to St Mungo's," Harry said evenly. "So you should probably head over there next, _sir_."

"Potter, are you being deliberately obtuse or are you honestly this blatantly ignorant?" Snape asked in exasperation. "I am not able to simply fix your cousin with a handy potion. That particular problem is something that will take a while to right itself. In the meantime, I am here for damage control."

"Damage control?" Harry repeated, now feeling his annoyance give way to confusion.

Snape scowled and glared at Harry with such ferocity that he was almost certain that Snape would happily kill him on the spot.

"As we've established, it will take a very long time for your cousin to recover from his ordeal," Snape explained, his voice void of all emotions. "In the meantime, his absence will surely be noted and the ministry is honestly not too keen to keep all the muggles who could have questions about it in check."

Harry frowned. "Alright," he said slowly. "And you can help with that problem?"

"Don't interrupt, Potter," Snape snapped. "If you'll allow me to explain, you'll hear the conclusion soon enough. In order for your cousin's absence to go unnoticed, he will be replaced by someone who is able to brew the Polyjuice potion as is necessary as well as play the part of subterfuge. Unfortunately for both of us, I am the most logical answer to your current problem."

Harry swallowed thickly as he tried to make sense of Snape's words. "Hold on," he said. "Are you trying to tell me that you're going to be playing the part of my cousin?"

"It would appear that you do have a brain in that thick skull of yours," Snape sneered. "Yes, Potter, I will be impersonating Dudley Dursley for as long as he remains in St Mungo's. In order to accomplish this goal, I will need you to inform me of his mannerisms, habits and speech pattern."

Harry stared at him, his mouth agape. Perhaps it would be better to come clean to the Dursleys after all. He didn't want Snape living with him and finding out about the way the great Harry Potter lived his life. He didn't want to teach Snape to call him things like 'freak' and 'waste of space'. He most certainly didn't want to inform Snape about the intricate details of 'Harry hunting'. Perhaps he could warn the Dursleys about Snape's arrival. If he did that, Snape would find out nothing and the Dursleys would be forced to act nice for once. Yeah. That would work.

But Snape seemed to be sensing his thoughts.

"Before you get any ideas, I should inform you that the ministry deemed it necessary for your aunt and uncle to remain oblivious to the current predicament," he said. "If you should choose to go against their wishes and tell them anyway, I imagine that they would not hesitate to expel you."

Snape sneered as he spat those last words. "Of course, I would not be against your future absence in my class so if that's what you are trying to accomplish, be my guest."

"What?" Harry exclaimed. "You can't be serious!"

"Take it up with the minister," Snape growled, uncorking a vial from his pocket and adding a hair he had procured from a handkerchief that seemed to be filled with the things. Had they shaved Dudley or something?

With one last dangerous glare in Harry's direction, Snape downed the disgusting potion. Harry shuddered as he watched the transformation. Seeing his scary, dark Potions Master change into the ginormous blob that was his cousin was a sight he could've gone his whole life without seeing.

This summer was quickly becoming one of the worst ones he had ever had.

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_And there you have it, folks! Please don't forget to leave a review. Even those who already read the chapter when they helped me decide with which story to move forward. It's my only reward!_


	2. Chapter 2

_I want to thank you all for your amazing response to the first chapter. You have no idea ho happy you made me. I don't have a whole lot to say so without further ado, enjoy the next chapter!_

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**Chapter 2**

It looked decidedly odd to see Dudley staring back at him with Snape's supremely intelligent look in his eyes, a dark glare present that Harry had never thought the small whale capable of.

"I'm waiting, Potter," Snape said. "I imagine that we'll be expected home shortly. If you dawdle, your guardians might get suspicious."

Harry sighed. Snape was right. And the last thing he wanted was to be given a beating as soon as they got home. Perhaps if he tried to be especially well-behaved and didn't talk back to his aunt and uncle, he might be able to fool Snape yet.

"Alright," he conceded. "The first thing you need to know is that Dudley is less than… eloquent as you would put it."

Snape snorted derisively. "That would appear to be a common occurrence in your household," he said.

"Which means," Harry continued a bit louder, "that you should probably stop using those big words of yours. Try to speak like a normal person. Well, a somewhat more stupid normal person, but still."

Snape scoffed and crossed his now meaty arms. "I'm certain that I can manage," he said. "What else?"

"Well," Harry said slowly. "You should probably not call me Potter anymore."

Snape rolled his eyes. "Obviously," he replied. "I take it 'Harry' will have to do?" He scowled as if Harry's name tasted vile.

Harry glared at him. "Luckily for you, no," he said. "Dudley and I don't exactly get along…"

"Truly?" Snape replied, a sardonic eyebrow raised. "I would never have guessed, judging by his current predicament."

"Would you stop interrupting me?" Harry pleaded. When Snape didn't say another word, he continued. "So when you're referring to me while talking to others, use 'he', 'him' and 'that'. When you address me directly, you should call me 'freak'."

Harry tried to keep his voice even and his gaze defiant as he stared at Snape. He didn't react at all besides a simple nod of his head and motioned for Harry to go on.

"It wouldn't be out of character to occasionally shove me out of the way," Harry continued. "Oh, and you have a gang. You might need to occasionally bully someone." '_But wouldn't that be right up your ally?_' Harry added in thought.

Snape glared at him. "We shall see about that," he growled.

Harry just shrugged. "It's up to you. Also, Dudley is used to getting what he wants. If he doesn't, he will whine about it to his parents."

Snape rolled his eyes but didn't say anything else.

"I think that's all for now," Harry said.

"This _gang_ of mine," Snape said derisively. "How would I recognise them?"

"I will show you a picture later," Harry told him. "You keep some in your room."

Snape nodded. "Very well," he said. "Let me just give you one last warning. You are not to interfere with my mission. Stay out of my way and I'll stay out of yours. If I have questions about your cousin's persona, you will answer them truthfully. If I find out that you lied in any way, there will be consequences."

Harry sighed. "I understand, sir," he said.

Snape nodded. "Good," he said. "Now, lead me to your home."

"Fine," Harry growled, already sufficiently annoyed by this entire situation and started making his way to number four privet drive. He stumbled a bit because of his aching ribs but tried his best to walk normally. He heard Snape huff behind him – probably annoyed because of many different things – but ignored him. The less they spoke, the better it would be for both of them.

The walk home – well, to the house – was done in complete silence. When they finally arrived, Harry stood a few steps back and motioned for Snape to go first.

"You'd best go in before me," Harry said. "Dudley would never allow me to go in first anywhere."

Snape nodded, schooled his expression into one that looked remarkably innocent and pounded on the door three times.

The door opened to reveal the horse-faced woman that was aunt Petunia.

"Duddykins!" she said in surprise, glancing at Harry in disgust. "You're home so late. What happened? Why didn't you use your key?"

Snape shrugged. "I lost my keys," he said evenly. "I'm late because I was looking for them."

"Where do you think you lost them, dear?" Petunia asked.

"Somewhere near the playground, I guess," Snape said sheepishly. Harry's eyes nearly bulged out of his head when he saw the innocent act Snape was putting on. How was the man so good at this?!

Petunia suddenly fixed Harry with a piercing glare. "And you?" she snarled. "Too good to help Dudley look for his keys, I'd wager? No doubt you had something to do with their disappearance in the first place."

"But I didn't!" Harry objected. Okay, so maybe technically it _was_ his fault that the keys – much like the real Dudley – had disappeared from Surrey but he wasn't about to explain that to his aunt.

"Hurry inside and take a nice long shower before you catch a cold, my precious Duddykins," Petunia said in a sickeningly sweet voice.

"And you," she spat at Harry. "Don't you dare traipsing mud all over my clean floors or you'll be sorry."

"Yes, Aunt Petunia," Harry said meekly.

They both went inside and when Snape's eyes met Harry's, he inclined his head towards the stairs to signal where the shower actually was. Snape caught on and headed up while Harry took off his shoes and socks and rolled up the hem of his trousers to try and keep the floors as clean as he possibly could. Naturally – with him dripping all over – that was impossible.

Petunia sighed dramatically as Harry took exaggeratedly large steps in his attempts to get to his bedroom and eventually just spat: "Forget it, you useless boy. Just put on something dry and come back down so you can clean up this mess."

"Of course, aunt Petunia," Harry replied before hurrying to his room. He could hear the sound of water running and sighed in longing. Knowing full well that he'd sooner be allowed a shower courtesy of the hose, he closed his bedroom door and changed his outfit.

He hurried back down to fill up a bucket with warm water and started mopping the now muddy floor. Most of the mud had come from Dudley's feet, he noticed. Not that his cousin – now Snape – would ever be told to clean up after himself.

"You'd best hurry, you little freak," Petunia growled. "Vernon will get home any minute now. You don't want him to see the state you left this house in, do you?"

"No, aunt Petunia," Harry said obediently as he wrung out his mop.

"And when you're done with that, I need you to get started on dinner," she said nastily. "You've been out gallivanting long enough. I've had it with your attitude of late."

Harry did his best not to glare at Petunia. Any kid would have felt bad after the ordeal he'd been through only a few weeks ago. But he wasn't about to tell her just how horrible he felt. He wasn't about to fill in his hateful aunt about the fact that _he_ had been responsible for Cedric's death nor that _he_ was the reason that Voldemort had returned and would likely go on to kill many other people now that he could. When Harry got the time to think about it, he knew that all of the bad things that had happened throughout the years he went to Hogwarts had always had something to do with him. Always.

When the floor was clean again, Harry emptied the bucket of dirty water outside, put the cleaning supplies back where they belonged and washed his hands before getting started on dinner. By now, the shower had stopped running and Harry could hear some rummaging going on in Dudley's room. Snape was probably looking for a change of clothes, no doubt sneering at the selection he was facing.

Harry wondered if he would be allowed to eat today and if not, how he was going to explain that to Snape. On the other hand, Snape probably couldn't care less if he ate or not. The man was already very angry with Harry for putting him in this position and would most likely not care about his well-being. That was exactly what Harry was hoping for.

He was halfway done peeling the potatoes when Snape came back down the stairs. He glared at Harry who inclined his head toward the sitting room, hoping that Snape knew how to work a television set. Thankfully, Snape followed his direction and walked into the room, where Petunia was already waiting.

"What do you want to watch, dear?" Petunia cooed sickeningly. "Did you want anything to drink?"

"Yeah," Snape replied curtly.

Harry sighed and put down his knife. He had already gotten up from the chair when he heard the expected call. "Boy! Bring your cousin a drink, right now!"

Harry rolled his eyes, grabbed a glass and filled it with Dudley's favourite fizz. He secretly hoped that Snape would dislike the drink immensely. He walked into the sitting room, put the glass down onto the coffee table without even glancing at Snape and walked back into the kitchen as fast as he could.

The TV set was turned on and Harry could hear the asinine dialogue of the ridiculous show Dudley liked to watch. He smiled a little bit at the thought of Snape being forced to watch such things and pretend he liked them. For the serious Potions Master, it had to be nothing short of torture.

Once the potatoes and cauliflower were boiling, Harry got started on preparing the steaks. There were three big juicy ones. Petunia would never be able to finish hers but she would give what she couldn't finish to Vernon. She always did.

And then the familiar car of Vernon Dursley parked in the driveway. The door to the vehicle slammed shut with more force than was strictly necessary and Harry knew that his uncle had had a bad day at work again. Those were more frequent lately and Harry always got the blame for them.

Pretending as if nothing was awry and ignoring the slight trembling of his knees, Harry kept a watchful eye on the steaks, making absolutely sure that he did not burn them. If he did, there would be hell to pay.

When Vernon walked in and passed by the kitchen, he threw a murderous glare in Harry's direction but did not speak a word. Harry obligingly wished him a good evening and released a breath when his uncle walked into the sitting room, where his family awaited him.

His family. Of which Harry was not a part and never would be. Because he was a freak. A bad omen. A magnet for murder.

"Boy!" Harry flinched slightly before looking at his uncle who stood bristling in the doorway.

"Yes, uncle Vernon?" Harry asked, trying to keep his voice even.

"Why isn't dinner ready yet?" he asked furiously. "You know you're supposed to have dinner waiting by the time I get home."

"I'm sorry, I –"

"I work hard all day long to keep you fed and clothed. All I ask of you is to work for your keep. But no, you can't even do that!"

Harry flipped the steaks while keeping an eye on his fuming uncle.

"You're right, sir," he said as respectfully as he could. "It won't happen again. Dinner will be ready in a few minutes."

"See to it that it is," Vernon snarled before spinning on his heel and walking back into the sitting room. Harry was just glad that the man hadn't hit him right then and there. Snape would've surely had a field day with that.

A few minutes later, dinner was indeed ready and Harry set the pots and pan on the table as the Dursleys walked into the kitchen, sitting down at the set table. Harry kept a close eye on Snape to gouge his reaction to the fact that only three plates were waiting for them but he didn't show the slightest sign that he thought something was amiss.

Harry had started running the water in the sink so he could get started on doing the dishes while his family ate. The sink had just filled up when Petunia spoke. "Is something wrong, dear?" she asked. "You're hardly eating."

Harry glanced over his shoulder to see what was going on. Snape shrugged. "My steak is well-done," he said.

Harry panicked a little. "But Dudley," he said as calmly as he could. "That's how you've always liked your steak, isn't it?"

Snape looked at him with a blank expression and shrugged. "I guess," he said. "Not anymore, though."

The angered expression on Vernon's face told Harry that he was in a load of trouble already. "You know what, mine isn't up to standards either," the man said sternly. "Do you think it's funny to waste three perfectly good steaks, boy?"

"No, sir," Harry sighed.

"Are you trying to arrange more leftovers, then?" Petunia snarled.

Vernon laughed angrily. "None of that," he said. "After you're done cleaning, you'll go to bed without supper, understand?"

Harry sighed. "Yes, sir."

"Don't sigh at your uncle!" Petunia shrieked. "If you would only try harder, he wouldn't have to resort to such things."

"You're a lazy, good-for-nothing, little brat," Vernon added. Harry didn't respond anymore. He just did the dishes, letting the insults wash over him as he washed up as fast as he could. Next to him, Petunia dumped the contents of all three plates into the trash and all but threw the dishes into the water, splashing Harry angrily.

"That should teach you," she hissed.

The absence of Dudley's usual barbs did nothing to appease Harry's growing sense of hurt and loneliness. Try harder, they said. Do your best. Maybe if you act like a normal boy, we will accept you. If only you weren't a freak, we'd…

To his horror, Harry felt the prickling of tears in his eyes. Why did this happen all of a sudden? He knew what his relatives were like. This was nothing new. He shouldn't be surprised.

The lingering smell of the food that Harry had no doubt had been delicious was causing his stomach to growl but Harry did his best to ignore it. Harry was sure that he felt the sensation of a pair of eyes staring at him and was almost positive that it was Snape.

Oh, the stories the man could tell Slytherin house after only a few hours in the Dursley residence. Harry's school life was already over and Snape's stay here had scarcely begun. Why did he have to transfigure Dursley? Why couldn't he have just let the boy stab him instead? Surely that would have been preferable to his current situation.

Finally, the Dursleys left the kitchen to go back to watching the television, leaving Harry to work in relative peace.

For a moment, he contemplated grabbing a half-eaten steak out of the trash and taking it with him to his room. But the door to the sitting room was left open and Harry knew that his uncle was watching him like a hawk. And was he really so desperate as to steal food out of the trash already? He decided that no, he wasn't.

As Harry dried off the last plate and put it back in the cabinets, he walked up the stairs and into his room without even sparing a last glance at his relatives. He could only hope that Snape would stay in character as much as he possibly could. But seeing how Snape had performed thus far, Harry had no doubt that he would.

He laid down in bed, staring at the ceiling since he wasn't at all tired yet when he heard a car start. Frowning, he got up out of bed to see his aunt and cousin climb into the car as Vernon cast his gaze up to Harry's window before hurrying up the stairs again. Harry noticed that Snape was watching him and quickly withdrew, closing the drapes. Whatever was going to happen next, Snape had no business watching that.

Harry's door slammed open to reveal an upset Vernon standing in the doorway.

"Boy," he growled menacingly. "Because you ruined three very expensive steaks, I now have to take the family out to dinner, which will cost me even more money."

Harry glared rebelliously. "There was nothing wrong with the steaks," he said calmly. "And you finished nearly everything else. I doubt that anyone is still hungry."

Vernon backhanded him in the face before he had even realised it. Crap, that was going to leave a mark that would be hard to hide.

"Don't you dare talk back to me, boy," he snarled.

Harry, who didn't feel like behaving when Snape wasn't around to witness it, didn't back down.

"You _know_ I did nothing wrong," he challenged. "You're just upset about something that happened at work and you're taking it out on your favourite punching bag!"

Vernon's foot connected hard with Harry's chest, knocking the wind out of him as he fell backwards.

"And how would you know about that?" Vernon challenged. "Because you had something to do with it, did you?" He tried punching Harry in the face but he held up his arm protectively to take the blow instead. "You always do your best to make us miserable so why should I not do the same to you?"

"I don't!" Harry tried but he should've learned a long time ago that denying things would not help him.

Vernon kicked him as he curled up into a ball, protecting his stomach as well as he could. "You're a filthy liar," Vernon huffed as he kept kicking Harry in his already bruised ribs. Harry was sure that it would leave a permanent mark if Vernon kept going. Thankfully, his uncle tired quickly and stopped, breathing heavily.

"My family is waiting for me," he said angrily. "You will stay in your room like the waste of space you are and not make a sound, do you hear? If I catch you outside of your room, there will be hell to pay."

Harry didn't reply.

"Do you understand?" Vernon said threateningly.

"Yes, sir," Harry replied painfully.

Vernon spat at Harry viciously before walking out and slamming the door, locking it shut for good measure. Without his wand, Harry wouldn't be able to get out of there, even if he wanted to. Well, he could always jump out of the window but that would amount to nothing.

He wanted to get up and crawl into the pathetic excuse for a bed he had but simply couldn't manage to. So instead, he pushed himself underneath it - feeling like a toddler who hoped that the monsters wouldn't find him if he hid under there - and closed his eyes in the darkness of it all.

The last thoughts he had before falling asleep were of Dudley and he couldn't help but wonder if his night had gone equally bad and if Harry would face the consequences of his circumstances once he got back.

* * *

Harry had expected that he would have woken up when the Dursleys returned but he hadn't. Instead, he was woken up in the middle of the night by his door slamming open as the sound of his own yelling and pleading reverberated in his ears. Once again, he had woken up his terrifying uncle because he was having a nightmare.

"Boy, where are you?" Vernon's voice growled and Harry remembered that he had scurried underneath his bed only a few hours earlier.

"I swear, if you've turned yourself invisible or something, there'll be hell to pay!"

"Under here, uncle," Harry said hoarsely as he crawled from under the bed. He was feeling sore and stiff but there was nothing to it at that moment.

"What are you doing under there, whelp?" Vernon snarled angrily. He grabbed Harry by his hair and dragged him out the rest of the way. Harry bit his lip to keep from crying out as he glared at his uncle in defiance. "Don't look at me like that," Vernon hissed. "I've had enough of your insufferable screaming at night. Try it one more time and so help me, you'll sleep in the yard."

"I understand," Harry said softly. Vernon threw him onto the bed which squeaked in protest and walked out without another word. After his thunderous footsteps had retreated to the confines of the master bedroom, Harry sighed and ran a hand through his unruly hair. Somehow, he didn't think his uncle was joking.

Thinking about what he should do now, he glanced around the room. He noticed that his throat felt a little scratchy but imagined that it had everything to do with the fact that he had been screaming in his sleep. His current headache probably stemmed from the same source.

When Harry's gaze fell on a discarded shirt, he got an idea. Grudgingly, he picked up the thankfully clean item, sighed deeply and bit into it, tying it around his head with the sleeves, effectively gagging himself. He didn't know if this would work but it should at least muffle any sounds he was going to be making at night.

At least somewhat satisfied that he was in his bed now, Harry closed his eyes and fell into another fitful sleep.

* * *

When Harry next woke up, it was because of a harsh pounding on his door.

"Up!" Came Petunia's shrill voice. "Get up! Right now! You're the last one to wake up you lazy good-for-nothing."

"Yes, Aunt Petunia," Harry replied groggily.

"Get started on breakfast this instance!" Petunia yelled before walking away again. Knowing better than to incur her wrath, Harry got out of bed and stumbled a bit before dressing himself.

He felt absolutely awful. Not only was he sore from the beating his uncle had given him only the previous day, he felt cold and his skin prickled uncomfortably. His throat and head hurt and he couldn't suppress the occasional shivers wracking his body.

Harry groaned when he realised that he had gotten sick. _Not now_!

Deciding that the Dursleys would surely not show him any mercy, he opened the door and was about to walk downstairs when he came face to face with Snape who took a swig out of a flask.

"What happened to your face?" he asked coldly.

Harry touched his face gingerly where he knew there would be a bruise and shrugged. "I got into a scuffle with Dudley and his gang yesterday," he said cleverly. "That's why – well – you know. Did you still need me to find you a picture of them?"

Snape shook his head. "Obtuse as you may think I am, I managed to find a picture without your help."

Harry rolled his eyes and headed down the stairs. "Good for you," he mumbled, not in the mood to start something with Snape.

Once in the kitchen, he got started on the eggs and bacon, making extra sure not to burn any of it. The family went to sit around the dinner table just as Harry plated their food. The pile he set in front of Snape was humongous and he wondered if the Potions Master would even be able to eat it all.

He didn't think anyone would be able to find fault with his food this morning and he wondered anxiously if there would be anything left for him to eat.

"Quit your staring, boy," Vernon growled. "Get started on the clean-up. Hurry up, now."

Obediently, Harry started filling the sink as he listened to the scraping of cutlery and the smacking of mouths.

"You're hardly eating a thing, Duddykins," Petunia said and Harry almost sighed in exasperation. Surely, Snape wasn't going to get him into trouble again!

Harry glanced at Snape to see that he had eaten a healthy-sized portion of the food but of course he wouldn't be able to eat it all. Harry could hardly expect him to.

Snape glanced at Harry before looking back at Petunia. "I think I'm a bit sick," he said. "Maybe because I was out in the rain yesterday." He followed up with a cough that sounded decidedly real but Harry knew to be fake. He was grateful that he wasn't thrown under the bus, at least.

"My poor baby!" Petunia shrieked. "Well then, straight to bed with you. Is there anything you need?"

"Some tea would be nice," Snape said pathetically. Harry turned back to his dishwater and rolled his eyes. He considered that if Snape were to tell his Slytherins anything about his home-life, he could, in turn, tell the Gryffindors about everything Snape had to say and do while he was here. He couldn't help but smirk at the thought.

"You'll be better in no time," Vernon said easily. "You're a strong boy, after all."

"Yeah," Snape said weakly.

"What are you waiting for, boy?" Petunia suddenly snarled, making Harry jump. "Make Dudley some tea! And bring it up when you're done. Come now, my baby," she said as she turned her attention to Snape. "I'll tuck you right back in and you can get anything you want while you're resting."

Harry didn't see how that would be different from any other day but refrained from speaking up. At the same time that Vernon folded his newspaper and made to get ready for work, Petunia went up with Snape to help him get into bed. Harry snorted. Petunia would be tucking in Snape. How ridiculous.

Harry saw his chance and ate from the food Snape had left untouched. Though he only managed a few bites before feeling somewhat nauseous. Well, that figured.

When the tea was ready, Harry made a platter to bring upstairs, resigning himself to the fact that he would probably be waiting on Snape, hand and foot for as long as he chose to pretend to be sick.

Oh, joy.

* * *

_Oh, Harry. The poor thing. I do so love to hurt that boy. But he hasn't lost his spirit just yet._  
_Please send me a review with your thoughts! It's always very much appreciated. Thanks for reading!_


	3. Chapter 3

_Thank you all very much for your reviews! I can really feel the love. Just for that, this chapter is extra long. Just kidding, that's just how it ended up._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

**Chapter 3**

More out of habit than respect, Harry knocked on Dudley's door and waited patiently for the 'Come in' before entering with the freshly brewed tea.

Snape was sitting on Dudley's bed and Harry placed the plateau of tea and biscuits on a nearby coffee table, carefully avoiding the clutter that already lay on top of it. Snape eyed Harry suspiciously as he dutifully poured the man a cup and handed it to him.

Harry grinned as he took in Snape's expression. "I didn't poison it if that's what you think," he said when Snape frowned at him. "And even if I did, you'd probably be able to smell it a mile away."

"Of course you didn't poison it, Potter," Snape snarled as he rudely took hold of the cup. "Even you are not imbecilic enough to try a stunt like that."

Harry rolled his eyes. "As you say, sir," he agreed. He grabbed a tiny bell that he had brought upstairs with him and handed it to Snape. "If you need anything else, just use this," he informed Snape. "I'll stay inside so I'll be able to hear you."

"Certainly even a dunderhead such as yourself would realise that I'm not actually sick, Potter?" Snape told him sardonically. "And even if I was, I certainly don't require your assistance."

Harry sighed exasperatedly. "I know that, sir," he replied evenly. "But seeing how you're now pretending to be my cousin, I assure you that you would be calling on me at least every half hour."

Snape narrowed his eyes. "Whatever for?"

"I don't know," Harry sighed. "Make something up."

Harry thought that the conversation was well and over by then but Snape kept regarding him carefully which was decidedly more creepy when it was Dudley's face that considered him so blatantly.

"Is there any reason why you're starving yourself, Potter?" Snape suddenly asked.

Somewhat startled, Harry frowned at Snape. "I'm not," he protested, "I'm just not feeling very well. I'm not hungry."

"Then why don't you go ahead and sleep it off?" Snape asked.

Harry forced himself to grin at his Potions Master. "I am not one to lock myself in my room just because I have the sniffles," he said proudly. "Unlike you."

Snape growled. "I need time to brew some potions," he said. "This seemed to be the best option to get some seclusion from your muggle relatives."

Harry made a face. "Make sure not to let aunt Petunia get a whiff of any potion fumes," he warned. "She has a nose like a bloodhound."

Snape made a noncommittal noise before taking out his wand and unshrinking a variety of items he had been hiding in the wardrobe.

Harry looked at him with eyes widened in a slight panic. "Er…"

"What is it now, Potter?" Snape sighed.

"Sir, won't I be accused of using even more underage magic if you do all that?"

"Of course not," Snape spat. "The ministry is very much aware of my presence here and has locked onto my wand. Any magic _I_ perform will be classified as mine."

"Oh," Harry said in relief. "That makes sense." He looked at the ingredients Snape had placed on Dudley's desk and frowned. "Are you really going to make Polyjuice potion?"

Snape grunted distractedly in response.

"But sir, do you really think Dudley will be in St Mungo's for over a month?"

Snape sighed and raised an eyebrow that clearly said 'You're an idiot'.

"Why does the textbook say that Polyjuice potion takes a month to brew, Potter?" Snape asked, using his – or rather, Dudley's – teaching voice.

"Because of the Fluxweed?" Harry guessed.

Snape nodded. "The Fluxweed needs to be picked during a full moon," he said. "I, of course, have a supply of the plant and will not need to wait. What else?"

"Er…" Harry stammered, already regretting that he said anything.

Snape sighed in annoyance. "What is the main ingredient in this potion, Potter?" he drawled.

Harry thought about that for a moment. "Lacewing flies?"

"Precisely," Snape replied evenly. "I'll ignore for now that you seem to know quite a bit about this potion but rest assured that it will be addressed in the future."

Harry gulped.

"As for the second part of my answer, the lacewing flies need to stew for 21 days. Since that is the sole reason for Polyjuice to take so long, I always make sure to have a large supply of stewed lacewing flies at the ready for just such an occasion." With a flourish, Snape produced a shrunken jar of the gooey stuff straight out of his pocket.

"That's clever," Harry said before realising he spoke at all.

"Indeed," Snape replied curtly, waving towards Harry in a 'get out'- gesture.

Harry was very much done with the conversation himself and left Snape in Dudley's room as he brewed his potions. Harry couldn't help but chuckle to himself. You could get the Potions Master out of the lab…

"Boy! What's taking you so long?" Petunia screeched. "Your cousin needs his rest. Get down here!"

"Coming, Aunt Petunia," Harry replied as he hurried down the stairs. As he walked back into the kitchen, Petunia stood waiting with a chore list. With a sigh, Harry took it from her and allowed his eyes to roam over the writing. As he had expected, he would be working inside all day long. That worked out fine for him.

"And you'd better make sure that you're done by the time Vernon gets home," Petunia hissed. "I don't need him worrying about your laziness on top of everything else."

Harry blinked stupidly. "Is something wrong at work?" he asked and was immediately rewarded with a backhand from his aunt.

"Don't. Ask. Questions," she spat at him.

Harry muttered something under his breath but stopped when he saw the dark look on his aunt's face. It was his own fault, really. How could he even have forgotten about rule number one?

He took the list with him and got started on chore number one. Doing the laundry. There were seventeen things to do on the list and Harry knew that there was no way that he was going to be able to finish even half of it, especially given how ill he felt.

As the day sped forward, he became very aware of the fact that he had been right. It didn't help that Snape had taken his words to heart and was ringing that bell every half hour, only to end up having Harry dice some potion ingredients for a few minutes. They didn't engage in any more conversation for the rest of the day, which was fine by Harry.

When Vernon's car pulled into the driveway, Harry was working on number nine of the list (alphabetising the herbs and spices). Knowing that this was not going to be a fun evening for him, he quickly made his way over to his aunt.

"Dudley asked if I could bring him his dinner to his room today," Harry said hurriedly. "He's afraid that he might fall down the stairs otherwise."

Petunia scoffed. "You needn't look so pleased about it, you brat," she growled. Harry blinked. He was anything but pleased at that moment but people would gladly see what they wished to see, he supposed.

"Sorry, Aunt Petunia," he said complacently, only barely managing not to roll his eyes at her.

And then the door slammed open. Harry grit his teeth and clasped his hands behind his back trying his best to look polite and well-behaved. Why he even thought such things mattered at all was beyond even him but there was no harm in trying.

Vernon pushed past him to peck Petunia on the cheek, dumping his briefcase in a nearby corner.

"How's Dudley, pet?" he asked.

"Not too good, Vernon," Petunia sighed. "He's too weak to come downstairs. He wants to eat supper in his room."

Vernon glared at Harry. "I hope you and your freakish ways had nothing to do with this!" he exclaimed in a threatening voice.

Harry narrowed his eyes ever so slightly and titled his chin in defiance. "I didn't," he said. "People get sick when they're out in the rain. It happens."

His backtalk earned him a slap from Vernon that forced him a few steps backwards. Scowling, he put a hand against his cheek, wincing when it stung in response.

"Don't talk back to me, boy," he growled. "Do it again, and I swear that you won't be walking for weeks."

Harry knew that Vernon wasn't kidding and quickly berated himself in his mind to stop doing what he was doing.

"I'm sorry, uncle," he replied meekly, trying his best to look sufficiently mollified.

"Has he finished his chores?" Vernon then asked Petunia.

Petunia scoffed. "Of course he didn't," she snarled. "He's been upstairs more than anything else."

"Why do you insist on being such a burden on my family, boy?" Vernon growled. "You will cook dinner; bring Dudley his supper and come straight back down, do you hear me?"

Harry knew that he would not be getting any more food that day. He hung his head in defeat. "Yes, uncle Vernon," he said softly.

Cooking dinner was not particularly easy on Harry that evening. Throughout the day he had been feeling progressively worse and by the time he was finished cooking the sausages, he felt ready to collapse. The scent of the food was simply nauseating and Harry noticed his hands tremble as he quickly shifted the pan back and forth to keep the sausages from burning.

Even his aunt seemed to notice. "Finish up quickly, before you drop everything," she told him menacingly. Harry did as he was told, ignoring the headache that seemed to be building behind his throbbing sinuses and finally managed to plate the food.

"Bring up Dudley's food, boy," Vernon snarled.

"Yes sir," Harry replied meekly.

"And don't you dare steal any of his food on the way up or there'll be hell to pay," Vernon added.

"Yes, Uncle," Harry replied again. He wasn't in the mood for food anyway.

Once he was upstairs, he knocked on the door and waited for it to open. When it finally did, showing the exasperated face of Dudley, Harry handed him his plate and cutlery and walked back down without a word. Snape watched him leave for no more than a second before retreating into his room and slamming the door shut.

At the bottom of the stairs, Vernon was already waiting for him. He had opened the door to the cupboard and was holding it open with one large hand as the other one was placed in his side.

"Get in," he growled.

Harry's breath hitched in his throat and he stared at his uncle. The man couldn't do this to him. Not anymore! Surely, he had gotten far too big. Besides, his truck was already in the cupboard. There was simply no room.

"Uncle, please," Harry tried pleading but Vernon simply became very purple in the face, his beady eyes narrowing into dangerous slits.

"Don't make me repeat myself, boy," he hissed. "If you don't get in, I will throw you in. We don't want you making any of us sick with your freaky diseases."

"It's just a cold," Harry tried.

"Inside!" Vernon exclaimed again. Harry realized that he was getting on the man's last nerve and that there was no way for him to evade what was his old room. With a sense of trepidation, he hunched over and squeezed himself into the cupboard. His old cot was still there, the ratty old blanket covered in dust and mould. There was no pillow and the cot protested shrilly when Harry climbed into it.

He did his best to manoeuvre the trunk in a way that it wouldn't take up too much space but it was no use. So Harry curled into a semi-ball, shifting his arm underneath his head as a makeshift pillow and closed his eyes. At least he wouldn't be expected to do any chores for a day or so.

* * *

Two days.

That's how long Harry had been contained in his cupboard with nothing to do but sleep in the most awkwardly cramped positions, and watch the light shift across the floor of his cruddy dwelling. Occasionally, a spider would make its presence known and Harry would watch as it did what spiders did but that too became tedious after a while.

The first day, he had still felt really awful and had been silently grateful that he was allowed to 'rest' and not do any chores that day. He was allowed out of the cupboard to relieve himself twice a day but that was it.

On the second day, he had woken up feeling a lot better already. He realised that his fever had gone down and his throat was no longer scratchy. He still had a slight headache but that was nothing compared to the aches and cramps he had been feeling because of his tight quarters. So he had banged on his cupboard door, only to have Vernon yank it open, glance him over and slam the door back in his face, locking the thing for good measure.

"I'm feeling better, Uncle," Harry had tried telling him but Vernon had merely banged on the door one more time and left, his heavy footsteps echoing through the hallway.

That second day was even more torturous than the first one had been. Since Harry was no longer ill enough to sleep for hours on end, he found himself even more bored than he had been the previous day. He would have read one of his textbooks, had Vernon not locked his trunk. It had been overkill when he had done it, but at that moment it felt as if Harry had lost another meaningless battle to the obese man.

Vaguely, he wondered how Snape was doing and if he had been discovered. He quickly denounced that thought, though. If Snape had been discovered, Harry would have been dead now. Of that, he was certain. Harry sighed and stretched his neck to try and work out the kinks rather unsuccessfully.

Once again, he found himself thinking just why his relatives hated him so much. Yes, he was magical and sure, he knew that the Dursleys weren't fond of that fact but surely they could understand that that wasn't Harry's fault?

Harry absentmindedly ran a thumb across a scar mark near his elbow, where Vernon had once clipped him with a belt buckle. His Aunt and Uncle were perfectly capable of showing affection. Harry knew that they loved each other. He could see it in their small mannerism. The gentle touches they snuck when they thought no one was watching. The whispered words. The adoring glances.

And it was abundantly clear how much they loved their son. Dudley could do no wrong and would get anything he asked for. That's because Dudley was a perfectly normal boy and Harry was – well – Harry.

Harry lightly tapped the wall of the cupboard with the back of his head, casting his eyes towards the broken lightbulb. His fingers entwined and tightened around themselves as he sat there, contemplating the actual meaning of his life. Was there one, besides being there to fall victim to Voldemort's ploys every year?

Harry chuckled bitterly to himself. There lay another conundrum. There was another person that sought to bring misery and pain into Harry's life. Sure, the man was a psychopath, without question. But the pure, unveiled hatred he felt towards Harry for having done absolutely nothing to slight the wizard – nothing that had been in his control in any case – seemed so out of place and strange that Harry couldn't help but think that maybe there was a reason for him to invoke anger and hatred. Snape was another fine example of a man who had hated him since the moment he had seen him. Probably even since before that. And what for? It was painfully obvious that Snape had some kind of problem with his father, for some reason. And he liked taking that out on Harry.

Harry sighed and started drawing pictures in the dust that coated the walls of his tiny prison.

The entirety of Slytherin hated him. And if that wasn't bad enough, the rest of the student body frequently found reasons to suddenly dislike and distrust him. Even Ron – who had been jealous of Harry's misfortune – had abandoned him last year. He never even considered believing him instead.

To his horror, Harry noticed tears running down his face and he angrily rubbed at them. At least in his cupboard, no one could see him cry.

Harry clicked his tongue at himself for forgetting the Defence teachers that tried to kill him every year. Even Remus had done so, albeit unintentionally.

The more Harry thought about it, the clearer the reflection of his life so far became. He was generally not well-liked with only a few people here and there in his corner. But even they wavered. Someone always did.

It was very alone in that cramped little cupboard and Harry had nothing but his rampaging thoughts and aching stomach to keep him company.

* * *

On the third day, the door opened with a merciful creak to reveal Petunia and her thin-lipped scowl. Harry shielded his eyes from the light but lowered his hands to catch the bread roll his aunt threw at him.

"Eat that, clean yourself up and come back down," she ordered. "It's Dudley's special day and I will not have you ruining his breakfast, you hear?"

Harry nodded as he hastily bit into the roll, hardly chewing to get it into his stomach. Petunia made a face but said nothing.

It took Harry less than twenty seconds to devour the roll and he hurried upstairs right after. He rushed into the bathroom and gulped down the blissfully cool water from the tap, carefully counting the seconds as to not give his relatives cause to come and get him.

He washed himself as quickly as he could, got dressed in some clean clothes and hurried back downstairs. For multiple reasons, he didn't want to be late for Dudley's birthday.

"Chocolate chip pancakes," Petunia barked at Harry when he arrived.

"Yes, Aunt Petunia," Harry said obediently as he got started. He could see Snape glancing at him with a confused expression but pretended not to notice. Vernon was sat next to him and was piling up the presents on and next to the dinner table. In-between two pancakes, Harry would look over to see the horribly disgusted look on Snape's face grow and he couldn't help but smirk.

Petunia misunderstood the disgust on her son's face. "It's not enough, is it?" she asked sweetly. "We had more things ordered but they haven't arrived yet, pumpkin!"

Snape's glare darkened even more and Harry hurriedly placed a stack of pancakes in front of him.

"Happy birthday, Dudley," he said importantly. "You must be happy getting all these gifts."

"Back to the stove, boy," Vernon growled. "This is Dudley's special day and I will not have you ruin it!"

The '_or else'_ was implied. But Snape took the hint and schooled his expression into one that eerily resembled genuine happiness.

"This is great!" he told Petunia. "Thanks so much."

This elicited a ridiculously dramatic squeal from Petunia who wrapped her arms around her son's neck and showered him with kisses. Harry had to bite his lip to keep himself from laughing. Snape had to be fuming!

"Mum, I'm fifteen now!" he complained in that typical Dudley whine. "Please stop."

Petunia drew back and clasped her hands together. "I'm sorry, Duddykins," she said sweetly. "You're just so precious!"

Vernon chortled as he clapped Snape on the back. "You're going to end up being a real ladies' man," he said proudly. "You're turning out to be as handsome as your father."

Harry could practically see the nausea in Snape's eyes and in the greenish tint on his face and chuckled lightly.

"What's so funny, boy?" Vernon growled. "I reckon you haven't had much success in that department yet. Look at you."

Harry flipped a pancake and kept his eyes fixed on the doughy circle as it continued baking. He could hear Petunia laugh as if Vernon had just made the best joke ever.

"He's so scrawny," she snorted. "His hair is a constant mess and his glasses are hideous. Not to mention that ugly scar!"

With the pancake ready, Harry brought the pan over to Snape's plate and flipped it over, landing the thing on top of his stack. He met Snape's gaze for a fraction of a second, trying his best to conceal the hurt in his eyes with a wide grin.

"Yeah," he chuckled as if he was in on the 'joke'. "At this rate, I won't get a girlfriend before Dudley's children do," he said and turned back to the stove.

His aunt and uncle seemed oddly placated by his comment for a moment and Harry made a note to himself that he should try more often to discredit himself in front of his relatives.

"Aren't you going to eat a pancake, P - Freak?" Snape suddenly asked.

Harry gulped. That was the first time that Snape had called him by that particular moniker. And even though Harry had told him to do just that, he had to admit that it cut him. Hated Potions Professor or not, all things Hogwarts had to remain safe. And with that one word, the safety of his one home was beginning to crumble.

Harry decided that he should probably answer. "That's very nice of you, Dudley," he said. "Are you sure, though?"

He wondered if Snape would get the hint. Dudley would never invite him to eat a pancake with him. Not unless he had poisoned it first. On the other hand, that might be exactly what Snape had done. It would probably be divine justice in his eyes for having to come all the way to Surrey and take the place of his whale of a cousin.

And poor Dudley was celebrating his birthday in St Mungo's at that moment. And yet, Harry couldn't bring himself to feel sad for the boy.

"I insist," Snape replied. "It's my birthday and everyone – even freaks – should celebrate it!"

Harry frowned and looked at his aunt and uncle who were glancing at each other.

"Quite right, my boy!" Vernon suddenly said. "That's my son. Gracious as ever."

"Grab a plate," Petunia spat. "And you'd better be grateful for your cousin's generosity."

"That's very _benevolent_ of you, Dudley," Harry said appreciatively as he chose a pancake that didn't have a whole lot of chocolate chips.

Snape raised an eyebrow at the boy which did not look good on Dudley's face, no matter how often he did it.

"That means generous, compa –"

"I know what it means," Snape interrupted him coldly. "Now eat that pancake before I change my mind."

"Thanks," Harry said shortly before cutting up his pancake. He shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth, he knew. Especially when he hadn't eaten in days. Nothing but that roll.

"Go ahead and open your gifts," Vernon told Snape. "Your aunt Marge will be by later to see you as well."

Snape visibly blanched at the thought of spending even more time with coddling relatives. "I want to go out and play with Piers," he said defiantly.

"I'm sorry Duddykins," Petunia replied. "It'll only be for a little while and then you can go, alright?"

Snape seemed to be debating with himself. He eventually sighed gravely as he angrily threw another pancake onto Harry's plate. Harry swallowed thickly. If he kept this up their cover might be blown. He had to do something.

"I can't eat anymore, Dudley," he said, pushing his plate away. "I'm stuffed." In all honesty, he truly couldn't eat that much more. The one pancake had been very thick and saturated with baking grease and chocolate. He knew that his stomach couldn't handle much more of that.

"Eat it," Vernon snarled at Harry. "If our son wants you to eat a pancake to celebrate his birthday, you'd best do exactly what he wants."

Harry sighed, knowing that there was no way to argue about this and grabbed his fork. At least Snape would get the message to stop shoving food onto his plate.

'Dudley' opened his gifts while Harry ate his second pancake infuriatingly slowly. He made sure to wait after every bite he took to see if it would stay down.

Snape had started out by gently removing the wrapping paper from his presents. But somewhere past the tenth one, he lost his patience and started ripping at the paper to reveal the contents as fast as he could.

He glanced over everything he got with a look of disgust and would quickly toss the items aside as he reached for the next one. And the next one. It was obscene, really.

Near the end of it all, Dudley had received twenty-four new computer games; a new pair of boxing gloves; a large medieval-looking broadsword that he was supposed to hang on the wall but would no doubt be wielding when he felt better; new clothes; new shoes and all seasons of his favourite television show: 'Red Dwarf'. Dudley was eyeing the box-set, trying to look happy but grimacing in the process.

"We found your favourite tv-show," Vernon said proudly. "The entire videotape set."

"Thanks," Snape replied evenly. His gaze swept across the pile once more before he shook his head.

"Why don't we watch some of it together," Petunia offered. "While we wait for your aunt."

Snape looked at Harry who nodded at him ever so slightly. The dark glare he got in response gave Harry pause. But only momentarily. After all, this could be fun.

"Shall I stick around to refill your drinks and snacks while you watch?" Harry offered. "That way, you won't ever have to pause the show."

Vernon gave this some thought while Harry started cleaning up the wrapping paper. Snape was simply seething in his chair and Harry couldn't deny the pleasure that gave him.

"Fine, boy," Vernon finally acquiesced. "You will stand behind the sofa and keep out of sight. You will refill our drinks and the snacks before they run out entirely. And not a sound out of you, you hear?"

"Yes Uncle Vernon," Harry said easily.

It was really much more amusing to watch Dudley's face react to Snape's obvious discomfort than actually watching the show. He would often roll his eyes at the screen and groan when another stupid revelation was made. Especially when Cat was introduced – a descendant from the main character's pregnant cat – Snape became thoroughly annoyed. He clenched his jaw so hard that Harry wondered if his teeth might break soon.

When the third episode ended, the doorbell rang and Snape was released from his own personal hell. He jumped out of the sofa as quickly as his now obese body would let him and waddled gracelessly towards the door. Harry tried his best not to snicker.

And then Snape opened the door and was assaulted by a woman covered from head to toe in expensive-looking, pink-laced clothes as she wrapped her arms very tightly around him. His face was being mercilessly suffocated by aunt Marge's large bosom as he flailed helplessly in the process. Harry had to silently commend Snape's self-restraint. He hadn't drawn his wand yet.

"My darling nephew!" Marge cooed loudly. "Fifteen already! And my, what a handsome boy you're becoming."

"Mmmmhmmmph!" Snape replied. Harry snorted, earning himself a mean look from Vernon.

"Can I take your coat, Aunt Marge?" Harry asked helpfully, thinking that he should help Snape out.

She fixed him with one of her custom foul glares. One that almost rivalled Snape's. Almost.

"How many more years will you be here, boy?" she spat but she did release Snape. She took off her coat and handed it to Harry. "Shouldn't you be out of your poor uncle's hair soon?"

"Two more summers after this one ma'am," Harry said easily.

"Don't say that as if you'll be glad to be gone," Marge said angrily. "You should be happy that your aunt and uncle decided to keep you in the first place. If it were up to me you'd be –"

"In an orphanage," Harry finished dully. He had heard those words so many times already it was hardly a surprise.

Marge scoffed but decided not to pay any more attention to Harry. Instead, she enlisted Vernon's help. "Vernon, be a lamb and help me with Dudley's present, would you? It's rather on the heavy side."

"Seems fitting," Harry mumbled under his breath and received a swat to the back of his head courtesy of Aunt Petunia. Vernon hadn't heard and was already accompanying his sister to the car.

"If you won't behave, you'll be sleeping in the shed tonight," she warned Harry. The boy frowned. That one was new. It would probably be far more comfortable than his cupboard. He decided not to push it though and just shrugged. He noticed that Snape was staring at him.

"I'll behave," he said and obediently hung Marge's coat on a hanger.

The package Vernon returned with was huge and apparently very heavy. He waddled inside with the wrapped rectangle and placed it carefully on the dinner table.

"Here you are, Dudley," Marge said fondly. When Snape didn't move, she gave him a slight push towards the present.

"Go on," she urged. "Open it."

Snape glanced at Harry with a look that clearly represented hatred but for once, Harry didn't think that he was the primary cause.

He opened the present quickly, tearing off the wrapping paper in one fell swoop that was much too elegant for Dudley to ever be able to pull off. Harry rolled his eyes at the overly dramatic movement before registering what it was that his cousin had received.

It was a gigantic television.

"Now you can play your games and watch your shows in your room, pumpkin!" she squealed. "Aren't you happy?"

Snape turned to Aunt Marge with a fake smile on his face that screamed internal agony. "Thank you very much," he said surprisingly earnestly. "How did you know?"

Marge puffed up her chest proudly. "I know what my darling nephew likes," she said. "Now come on, give us a kiss."

With wide eyes, Harry watched as Snape walked over to aunt Marge as slowly as he possibly could and planted a very chaste kiss on her cheek.

"Oh look!" Marge exclaimed. "He's so grateful that he doesn't know what to do. Come now dear, there's no need to be shy."

Before Snape could get away, she wrapped her arms around him again and kissed him all over in rapid succession. Harry snickered when she caught half of Snape's lips in her frenzy. He quickly decided that this was the best birthday of his cousin he had ever attended. And that included the one with the trip to the zoo.

"Boy!" Vernon grunted loudly, drawing Harry out of his reveries.

"Yes, uncle?" Harry asked, trying his best not to betray his inner glee.

"We are going out for lunch," he said. Harry frowned, knowing the family had just eaten and that there was no way that any normal person – such as Snape – would be able to eat again so soon. Vernon mistook his frown though and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt.

"Not a word," he hissed. "We will not have this discussion again. No, you may not come. No, you are not allowed to play with Dudley's things and no, you are not wanted as a part of his celebration at all."

Harry glanced over at Snape to see if the man had caught any of that but he was too busy trying to dodge Marge as he put on his coat.

"I know, uncle," Harry said. This was no surprise, of course. But did the man have to keep reminding him that he was not wanted?

"You will go to your room and sit there until we're back," Vernon continued. "You are not allowed any more food since Dudley already graciously bestowed you with two pancakes. And you are not allowed access to any of the appliances. Don't make a sound and don't do any of that freaky business."

"Of course, Uncle," Harry complied.

He walked up the stairs in a hurry, trying his best to ignore the burning feeling of someone's eyes in his back. There was no doubt in Harry's mind that they were Snape's but he didn't turn around to verify that feeling.

There was absolutely no way that Snape still believed him to be coddled, he knew. But at least, he hadn't seen or heard any of the violence that occurred in here. And Harry was not about to change that. After all. If there was anyone that he didn't want to know about his home life, it was most definitely Severus Snape.

* * *

_This chapter was a mix of comedy and angst alike! How did you all feel about it? Please share with me your thoughts. Reviews always make me giddy so please! Make my day. Thanks in advance!_


	4. Chapter 4

_As always, I want to thank you all very much for your reviews and support. I hope this chapter was worth the wait!_

* * *

**Chapter 4**

Harry hadn't realized that he had dozed off until the door to his room opened with its customary squeak. Harry sat at the ready immediately - knowing full well what could happen if he wasn't – only to see his cousins face peering at him from the doorway. Harry sighed and dramatically dropped his head back onto his pillow.

"Hey big D," he said, grinning widely at his Potions Master's misfortune. "How was your birthday?"

When Snape didn't respond, Harry lifted his head again to find the man regarding him carefully, that ever-present disgust flickering in his eyes.

Harry frowned and lifted himself up on his elbows. "Don't look at me like that," he said warily. "I know that lunch probably wasn't your idea of fun but I couldn't exactly stop them, could I?

"Where were you the past few days?" Snape asked.

Harry blinked at the change in subject and swivelled his legs so he would sit on the edge of his bed. Trying to deflect, he grinned mischievously. "What?" he asked. "Did you miss me?"

Snape pinched the bridge of Dudley's nose in an obvious attempt to keep his composure and walked inside Harry's room. His eyes roamed the room and the few broken objects that littered the shelves in disgust, making Harry feel decidedly uncomfortable. "Where were you?" he asked again.

"Out," Harry growled, no longer amused. He moved to try and block Snape's gaze from whatever he would be focusing on, his arms crossed in defiance. "I was out with friends. Now was there something you needed?"

"You really take poor care of your things, don't you, Potter?" Snape asked as he picked up a broken train that lay haphazardly in a corner.

"You know me," Harry said evenly. "Always the careless one. Don't you have a potion to brew?"

"Sir," Snape insisted absentmindedly as he checked a small television with a hole in the screen.

"Get out, _sir_," Harry bit out nastily.

"Where were you for the last two days?" Snape asked again.

Harry was about ready to start throwing things. "I told you!" he exclaimed loudly. "I was away with friends."

Snape scoffed. "I heard your blatant lie the first time, Potter," he snarled. "Now I would like the truth."

"It's none of your business anyway," Harry said, snatching a broken rucksack out of the clutches of the greasy-haired-git in disguise.

"Your relatives are… not entirely as I expected," Snape said icily, now staring out of Harry's window.

"Things are not going too well at my uncle's job," Harry said in annoyance. "It's very upsetting for them both."

"Truly?" Snape asked mockingly. "And yet they see fit to quite literally buy a mountain of toys for your cousin's birthday."

"Those presents were bought before things got bad at work," Harry replied quickly.

Snape glared at him one last time. "Very well," he said coldly. "I'll be in my room if you need me."

"Be sure to play some of those videogames," Harry said lamely. "And make sure you put on the sound extra loud so they can hear you."

Snape grunted and left, closing the door behind him.

Harry exhaled a breath he didn't even realize he had been holding and sunk back onto his bed. Well, that had surely been mortifying enough. He ran a hand through his unruly hair and glanced at his window as if expecting Hedwig to show up. He had allowed her to go to the burrow, thinking she would be happier spending her summer over there rather than locked in her cage in Surrey.

Of course, even if he had access to the owl, he didn't know if he was even allowed to explain his current fiasco to his friends. He probably wasn't. Either way, Snape would most certainly not stand for it.

But his friends hadn't contacted him of their own volition either and Harry wondered why that was. The more time passed, the lonelier he felt. He even started thinking that his friends might be upset with him for what happened at the end of last year and everything. Were they mad at him for the part he played in Voldemort's return?

Harry sighed as loud videogame-noises broke through the wall he shared with Dudley's room. At least one of them was having fun.

* * *

It was only a few days later that Harry found himself in the front yard, tending to the flowerbeds and pulling the weeds. The blazing sun burned his neck, and he kept subconsciously trying to hide as much skin as he could underneath his shirt.

"Stupid daisies," Harry muttered under his breath as he carefully removed some nettles that were constricting the dainty flowers. "Learn to fend for yourself, for a change."

The daisies did not reply and Harry rolled his eyes at himself.

He continued his labour for hours on end, losing himself to his dark musings when he became aware of the use of a familiar moniker.

"Hey, Freak!"

Harry decided to ignore it for now and used his hands to continue adding mulch to the flower beds.

"Oh, Potteeeeer," said Piers in a sing-songy voice. Harry couldn't help but groan as five familiar shadows appeared in his vision.

"Hi Polkiss," Harry said evenly without looking up. "Need a break from your constant arse-kissing, do you?"

Harry knew that it was a bad idea to provoke Piers but quite honestly, he couldn't stop himself. No matter how much Dudley and his gang beat him up, he would not grovel. He didn't grovel before Voldemort and he certainly didn't grovel before a pack of rabid muggles.

It came as no surprise when a foot connected with Harry's ribs, causing him to gasp for breath for a moment.

"I don't think the freak wants to play today," Dennis said with a pout as Harry finally got up and turned to face his tormentors. His eyes narrowed for a moment when he saw that Snape was part of the pack. The dour man would no doubt get a kick out of this.

"Run along now," Harry said, trying to sound casual but failing because of the ache in his side. "I have work to do. Why don't you keep yourself busy at the park or something?"

"But Freakazoid," Malcolm piped up. "We missed you. It's been a while after all."

"Yeah big D," Gordon agreed. "I for one would like another game."

Harry stared at the group darkly, already pointing the foot of his back leg in the direction he would take off in, if necessary.

Snape hadn't said anything yet but seemed rather interested in Harry's reaction to all this.

"I don't think you should," Harry warned with a cheeky grin. "Too much running might give Big D heart failure."

Dudley's pack turned to look at Snape as one man, trying to see what his reaction might be. They were all met with stony silence. Harry crossed his arms and cocked his head to the side.

"See?" he said, sounding a lot braver than he felt. "Dudley agrees with me."

Piers elbowed Dudley lightly in the ribs. "hey, Big D," he said. "Are you going to let that freak say those things?"

"It seems to me that he still didn't learn his lesson," Malcolm agreed, crossing his arms and nodding contemplatively.

Harry locked eyes with Snape again and saw that he was at a loss for what to do. And Harry knew that if this had been the real Dudley, he would already be running for his life. As it was in his own interest as well that Snape's cover didn't get blown, he decided to provoke Piers a bit more. It wouldn't take much, after all. The boy had always had a short fuse.

While the hoodlums argued among themselves, Harry grabbed a handful of foul-smelling fertiliser, calmly kneaded it into a makeshift ball and without warning tossed it right into Piers' face.

"Woops!" Harry said, "I'm sorry. I mistook your face for a turnip. Don't worry, though. You look a lot better this way." Harry took a few steps backwards as Piers wiped the fertiliser from his face. "You smell a lot better too!"

Harry didn't even wait to see what effect those last words had on his muggle enemies. He knew that Piers was not going to let him get away with it. And the rest of the gang would follow.

Harry's heart was pounding in his chest as he ran, his ears barely catching the insults thrown his way. He chanced a glance over his shoulder only to realise that he was still much faster than any of his pursuers. He ran all the way to the park, zigzagging through trails and paths littered with trees until he was sure that Dudley's gang couldn't see him anymore.

He looked around frantically and found a tree to his liking. It had an excessive amount of foliage and lots of low-hanging branches. Harry jumped and grabbed onto a sturdy branch, hoisting himself up as fast as he could. He continued climbing higher until he heard voices shout at him in undisguised rage. Harry climbed just one more branch higher and hid deep in the foliage, hoping that it would be enough. And then he stayed still and silent. The only things that still moved were his eyes as he noticed the group of boys now walking nearer to his tree, their angry gazes darting around the area.

Harry held his breath as they came to a stop underneath his tree, discussing their plan of attack.

"He has to be here somewhere," Piers growled angrily. "When I catch him, I'm breaking his bloody legs!"

"I got dibs on his arms," Malcolm snickered.

"He won't be able to do his chores if you break too much," Snape said casually. "And I'm not doing them for him so try not to break too much, okay?"

Piers snorted. "Getting soft, Big D?" he asked.

Snape fixed him with a glare so fierce that Piers actually took a few steps back until he hit the trunk of the tree. Harry clenched his jaw, hoping that no one would look up.

"Try and say that again," Snape said darkly. "And I will show you exactly how soft I've gotten."

"G-Geez, Big D," Piers said, holding up his hands in defence. "I was only kidding. I meant nothing by it."

Snape glared at him for a moment longer before scoffing and crossing his arms. "He's no longer in the park," he said. "We should split up and look for him."

"Good idea," Piers said, still sounding somewhat scared. "I'll head towards the swimming pool."

"I'll take the convenience store," Malcolm offered.

"I'll go home and wait for him there," Snape said darkly. "He has to come back at some point. And when he does…" Snape made a show of punching into his flat hand with a convincing grin on his face.

And then the pack split up. Only, Snape did not go away. He waited for everyone else to be out of sight before looking up, meeting Harry's startled gaze.

"You complete and utter dunderhead," he snarled. "You just had to go and provoke someone, didn't you? If I could take points from Gryffindor, I very well would. Get down here this instant!"

Harry rolled his eyes at the commanding tone Snape managed to insert into Dudley's voice and started climbing down.

"Honestly, you know that you can't perform magic right now," Snape continued his tirade. "And even if you could, you wouldn't be allowed to do so on muggles. In what world could you win against five teenagers that are all bigger than you?"

Harry didn't reply as he lowered himself from the lowest-hanging branch and landed on his feet with the agility of a cat.

"What were you thinking?" Snape growled.

"You were blowing your cover," Harry bit back at him. "Dudley would never just stand there and take what I said. They would have gotten suspicious!"

"Why say anything, to begin with?" Snape asked exasperatedly. "Running your mouth surely didn't help."

Harry narrowed his eyes at the Potions Master. "What was I supposed to do? Ignore it?"

"Yes," Snape replied curtly.

Harry chuckled bitterly. "No, thank you," he said. "I'd rather run. I'm faster anyway."

"Start walking," Snape snarled, obviously no longer in the mood to discuss this. "We're going back home."

Harry kept looking around anxiously as if expecting to see one of Dudley's goons show up suddenly but luckily for him, the journey back was without event.

It wasn't until they almost reached number four when Harry saw it. The flowerbeds were completely and utterly destroyed. Mulch, fertiliser and dirt were strewn across the path that led to the door as well as the street. Flowers had been viciously torn out of the ground and carelessly thrown aside. Not a single one had been left in place.

"Oh no," Harry groaned.

Snape shot him a look that clearly said he thought this was Harry's own fault and went inside of the house while Harry hurriedly tried to clean up the mess.

Unfortunately, the flowers had not been removed with their roots intact. Instead, they had been torn apart and were beyond help. Already panicking, Harry tried to make the scene of the crime less horrible by sweeping the path and street, clearing them from the excess dirt. He was going as fast as he could when he suddenly heard a shrill shriek that made him close his eyes in horror.

"My daisies!" Petunia yelled loudly. "Why would you do such a vile thing, you horrible boy?!"

"I didn't do this!" Harry retorted frantically. "It was Piers!"

"And trying to blame that innocent boy," Petunia snarled. "You ungrateful monster! Why would you do this to your own family?"

Harry blinked and was slightly surprised that his jaw hadn't opened of its own accord. Was his aunt serious? What happened to Harry was no concern of her, but the fate of a few flowers that wouldn't survive past one year anyhow was somehow abhorrent.

"I didn't," Harry tried again, albeit very meekly. "I would never –"

"Enough," Petunia said softly, her voice overflowing with overdramatic sadness. "Get inside the house and go straight to your room. I can't even look at you right now."

Harry bit his lower lip as he hurried inside. It was utterly ridiculous for him to care about his aunt's disappointment. He knew this. He was very much aware that no matter what he did, he would never be good enough.

And yet…

And yet it hurt him when his aunt stopped yelling and just told him softly and without emotion to get out of her sight. It hurt when she wanted even less to do with him than usual. Some part of him still tried to do his very best in the hope that someday someone might praise him for it. But the massacre the garden had become today had set him back tremendously if there was even a path on which he could be set back in the first place.

Defeated, he walked up the stairs, glancing at his aunt one last time. She didn't even look at him anymore. Instead, she just stared out of the window, looking decidedly unhappy. Harry would surely get the belt today.

When Harry closed his door as softly as he could, he wished – not for the first time – that he was able to lock his door from the inside. But he couldn't. He half expected Snape to come into his room and tell him off some more but the Potions Master didn't come. Instead, Harry heard Dudley's television being turned on rather loudly only ten minutes after he had thrown himself on his bed. He could hear Dudley's new series playing and wondered if Snape actually liked it. But not even that thought could amuse him right now.

With a deep sigh, he closed his eyes and wondered how Dudley was doing at that moment. Had there been any progress? Could the boy move yet? How did he feel about all of the magic being performed around him? Did he like some of the wizarding toys he had undoubtedly been given? Did he feel any remorse at all for trying to stab Harry?

Thinking these thoughts, Harry drifted into a restless sleep.

* * *

It was the loud slamming of a car door that awoke Harry many hours later. To his surprise, it was already starting to get dark out and he wondered just why his uncle had only just now gotten home. The front door opened and then slammed shut with an equal amount of vigour. And then there were words. Harry recognised the booming voice of his uncle that got decidedly louder with every sentence he uttered and the voice of his aunt that was shrill and sounded tearful.

Harry frowned angrily. Honestly, they were just flowers and he had nothing to do with it.

"BOY!"

Harry jumped out of his bed and did something entirely illogical and unhelpful. Something he hadn't done since he was eight. He hid in his closet.

He knew that his uncle would find him and he knew that there was nothing he could do to stop the man from beating him but he could do his best not to cry out and alert Snape. The man could never be allowed to know lest the entirety of Slytherin found out on his first day back.

'_Please don't be too loud,_' Harry pleaded to no one in particular. '_Please don't have Snape hear. Please, please, please!_'

He heard the door to his room slam open and rebound off the wall. Dudley's television was still blaring in the background.

"Don't you dare hide from me!" Vernon yelled. Harry could hear that the man's words were slurred. He must've been in a bar for several hours. He was clearly drunk.

'_Please be quiet_,' Harry thought again as he pressed his back against the closet wall.

"You made your aunt cry," Vernon snarled. Harry could hear that he was getting closer. "A saint of a woman that took you in."

And then, the closet door opened and a meaty hand intruded to grab Harry by his hair, dragging him out into the open. Harry clenched his jaw shut and tried to land on the floor as softly as he could.

"What do you have to say for yourself?" Vernon spat. The man reeked of cheap alcohol.

"I didn't do it," Harry said in a near-whisper. "Please, sir, you might disturb Dudley."

Vernon's lip curled but he did seem to contemplate that for a moment. Eventually, he muttered something under his breath, took Harry by the collar of his oversized shirt and dragged him out of his room. Absurd as it was, Harry was actually grateful that his uncle listened to him. Naturally, he would still be punished. But with any luck, it would be away from Snape's ears.

They walked down the stairs and Vernon dragged Harry with him at a swift pace, now shifting his harsh grip to the back of Harry's neck to make him go faster. It was soon that Harry realised that his uncle was dragging him to the back of the house and into the garden. Dudley's window was on the street side of the house so Snape would probably not be able to notice much of what was going on in the garden. As long as Harry managed not to make too much noise, that is.

Vernon unhanded Harry for a moment as he fumbled with the keys he took out of his pocket, trying to unlock the shed with unsteady hands. Eventually, he managed and forced Harry inside with a well-placed shove that sent him sprawling onto the splintered wooden floor.

"You don't deserve to be in the house anyway," Vernon spat at Harry. "You're not even worthy of being our dog. The shed seems like an appropriate place for the likes of you."

Harry just stared at his uncle, not about to agree with that statement. He scrambled back up and glanced around as he tried to see just what kind of tools were within reach of the drunk and angered man.

"Do you know how hard I work so your aunt can plant those flowers every year, boy?" Vernon asked as he grabbed a set of cables that hung from a hook. Harry gulped and took a step back.

"Very hard, sir," Harry said meekly as he eyed the thick cables.

"Meanwhile, you do nothing but sit around all day," Vernon growled, advancing slowly on Harry. "You run off to avoid your shores; you lounge around in your room all day and now you destroyed the front yard."

"It wasn't me," Harry tried again.

"There's not a soul in this neighbourhood that would do something so vile," Vernon snarled. "Everyone here adores Petunia. You are the only one who would."

Harry knew that he was not going to win that argument and decided to try something else entirely.

"I'll plant new ones," he said anxiously.

CRASH

Vernon tried hitting Harry with the cables but his disorientation caused him to miss, hitting a large garden pot instead which cracked under the impact.

"You can't _pay_ for new ones!" Vernon roared. "What would you do? Steal them from other honest people like the filthy pig you are?"

WHACK

This time, the cables connected with their intended target. Harry held out his arm instinctively and managed to absorb the brunt of the blow with the chosen limb. A sharp, searing pain surrounded it instantaneously but Harry didn't have the time to dwell on it. Instead, he dodged the next attack and moved backwards. He glanced at the door instinctively but he remembered that there was a good reason for him to be here and not inside the house. So instead, he ducked behind a discarded old coffee table.

"Stop running, you little rat!" Vernon grunted. He advanced on the coffee table and rammed it, bracing his weight on both of his hands. The table pushed Harry roughly into the wall and connected painfully with his hip bone. He was trapped.

"Please, Uncle!" Harry pleaded, unable to stop himself. "I'll make this right. I promise!"

But his pleas fell on deaf ears. Vernon held the table in place with his knee as he kept bringing the cables down onto Harry's body. It didn't seem to matter to the man exactly where they connected, as long as it hurt. And every strike did.

This was worse than being hit with a belt. And after a few minutes of fending off the cables with his arm, the appendage was starting to look bloodied and feel somewhat detached. In pain, of course, and excruciatingly so but also as if the arm was no longer his.

After a while, Vernon tossed the cables aside. As a man that always preferred getting his own hands dirty, he could not stop himself from beating on Harry with his meaty fists. When the table became too much of a nuisance for him and Harry wasn't able to go anywhere because of his injuries anyway, Vernon removed the old piece of furniture, eager to get in some last kicks before he had to stop the punishment.

Harry had managed to protect his face from the onslaught but felt the horrible punishment on his arms, legs, back and torso. He knew that he would not be able to get up the next morning. He knew that his uncle had definitely cracked or perhaps even broken some bones with his continuous assaults. And he knew that – despite having been able to not scream or cry out too loudly – he would probably not be able to hide his new injuries from Snape. Not unless he hid entirely from the man. And how was he to do that if he could barely move?

Vernon inhaled through his nose with a disgusting snort before spitting green phlegm on Harry's broken body.

"You will stay here until further notice, boy," Vernon said, sounding decidedly out of breath. "I will decide on what to do with you tomorrow."

And with that out of the way, Vernon left the shed and slammed the door shut behind him, leaving the thoroughly broken body of his nephew in his wake.

For what was unfortunately not the first time in his life, Harry wondered if he would make it through the night. And if not, if that would really be such a bad thing.

* * *

_Oh dear. Something grave was bound to happen at some point, wasn't it? Please tell me what you thought!_


	5. Chapter 5

_Hello my precious readers! Thanks for joining me again. I want to thank you for all your positive commentary. You make me very happy._

_**A small warning.** This next chapter is rather dark. It's not violent but Harry is struggling. Forewarned is forearmed. _  
_Enjoy!_

* * *

**Chapter 5**

Waking up the next morning was not without difficulty. First of all, Harry wasn't even sure that it was morning. For all he knew it might just as well be the middle of the night or afternoon. He wasn't able to register any light filtering through his eyelids and he was too tired to open them.

Second of all, he became more and more aware of the pain as he slowly woke up. Or was it regaining consciousness in this case? Was there much of a difference? Whatever the case, it took merely a moment for the pain to become intolerable and Harry did his best to hold on to the last clouds of darkness still lingering in the back of his mind.

But slowly, his senses were starting to come back to him. Scent was the first one to make an unwelcome registration. The smell of blood and vomit was wafting through the air nearby and Harry was sure that the source was not far off. On second thought, he was probably the source. Vaguely, he hoped that he wasn't actually lying in his own filth but he soon found that even if he was, he was simply too tired to care.

Then, he registered taste. The coppery tang of his own blood mixed with the sour aftertaste of bile polluted the insides of his mouth. Had he bitten his tongue? The inside of his cheek, perhaps? Or had he been vomiting blood before? That would not be good.

There wasn't much sound to be heard other than the vague dripping of the leaky roof of the shed. Had it been raining before? It didn't sound like it was raining now. Birds were chattering away in the distance and Harry could hear the sound of someone mowing their lawn. Not the middle of the night, then.

When he tried to register just what his body was feeling, he was becoming increasingly overwhelmed. First, there was the obvious pain that seemed to be present in nearly every part of his body. Alright, so perhaps that was a little bit exaggerated but only slightly so.

His right arm was by far the worst. It felt as if it was actually on fire at that exact moment. It was throbbing harshly and stung viciously with every breeze of wind that grazed it. Harry noticed that his fingers sometimes twitched involuntarily and wondered if Vernon had caused some nerve damage. He thought some of his ribs were broken since he was unable to inhale very deeply. His remaining limbs, as well as his chest and back area, felt bruised and badly injured.

Other than the pain he also registered the clamminess of his skin. He was cold and felt very faint. He was tired enough to go right back to sleep but the scratchiness of his throat prevented him from doing just that. He was thirsty. Hungry as well but that particular need didn't seem all that urgent.

With monumental effort, he managed to open his eyelids just a little and immediately shut them when the light assaulted his eyes, causing an immense headache to flare up. Had it been there before? Harry wasn't even sure anymore.

A bit more careful this time, he opened his eyes again and managed to get used to the light. Without moving, he allowed his eyes to roam the parts of his body it could see. He instantly recognised a fairly large pool of blood underneath his fingers and suddenly realised how sticky they felt.

_Is that all mine?_

The inward question was a dumb one, he realised. Unless Uncle Vernon had hurt himself whilst beating the life out of Harry, there could be no other source.

Harry's eyes flew to the door when he heard the sound of a lock opening. For one short moment, he hoped that he could be found by someone other than his relatives. Hell, right now he would even welcome Snape to come in here and find him. Sure, he would mock and ridicule Harry once school was back in session but he would probably not allow Harry to die here.

Was he dying? Harry certainly felt that he was.

His hopes were all shattered when the door opened wide to reveal his overly large uncle. He looked down at Harry and met his gaze for a fraction of a second before entering the shed. Harry flinched as the man advanced on him and wanted nothing more than to scurry back to evade the next blows that would no doubt find him. But he just couldn't get himself to move much. Everything just hurt far too much.

"Feeling sorry for yourself, are you?" Vernon growled. He kicked Harry very lightly against the back of his knee but it hurt terribly nonetheless. Harry couldn't help the small groan that escaped him.

"Yes well, you'd better make sure that you're ready for your chores by tomorrow, boy," the obese man said menacingly. Harry thought that he could make out a hint of worry in his uncle's voice and imagined that the man didn't want to face the trouble he would be in if Harry did die.

Harry wanted to point this out but when he opened his mouth to speak, he found that no sound came out.

"Here," Vernon said, placing a large glass of water and a few slices of bread next to Harry's head. "Your rations for today. Even though you don't deserve them."

_What do you expect? My everlasting gratitude?_ Harry thought but he could do nothing but glare at the man.

"Don't you dare glare at me, boy," Vernon said angrily. "You deserved everything that you got, and you know it."

_Do you really believe that?_

"I'll be back tomorrow and you'd better make sure that you're ready to work."

_If I'm not dead by then._

Without another word, Vernon left the shed and smacked the door shut. Harry could hear a padlock clicking in place and managed a small sigh that only served to hurt his aching ribs.

With his uncle now gone, Harry focused his attention on the glass of water. Vernon truly was a sadistic bastard. Had he not realised that Harry could barely lift a finger, let alone lift a glass of water?

_Come on, Harry. If you don't drink the water, you're as good as dead._

With another groan, he carefully and slowly moved his left arm underneath his torso. He then took a few steadying breaths before using all of his energy to push himself upwards. He cried out in pain as he did but he managed to manoeuvre into a sitting position. He needed to take a few minutes to calm his erratic breathing and recover from the brief expenditure of energy. He had all the time in the world, anyway.

His gaze travelled down his body, now fully taking in the damage. His clothes were stained with blood. It was nigh impossible to detect their own colour as the fabrics were tinged with a dark red. They were also torn in various places and Harry could see bruised and bloodied flesh become visible through the gaps.

He hadn't noticed anything to be wrong with his left foot before but now he noticed that it seemed to be forced in an unnatural angle. It was undoubtedly broken and the sight of it made Harry ill so he quickly looked away.

_This is bad._

Harry refocused his attention on the glass of water. Had it been a peace offering to make Harry keep his mouth shut or was Vernon truly afraid that he might become a murderer? For a brief moment, Harry considered that the water might very well be poisoned. But no. What would the purpose be of that? If Vernon wanted Harry dead, all he would have to do was use him one more time as a punching bag and that would be it.

With what took a monumental effort, Harry extended his arm to try and grab the glass, nearly knocking it over in the process. He only barely managed to fold his fingers around the cylindrical shape and felt a small twinge of comfort when his skin made contact with the cold material.

Now to lift it. With immense focus, Harry managed to raise the glass to his lips and greedily took a few gulps of the much-needed liquid. It helped soothe his scratchy throat and ease some of his immediate worries. But when the glass was half-empty, Harry lost his grip and it tumbled into his lap, spilling the remains of the water all over his clothes.

Harry stared at the new mess he had made in shock. He blinked a few times, barely comprehending what had just happened. But when he realised that he had just wasted the life-line that had been thrown in his direction, he couldn't help the few tears that fell from his eyes. He clenched them shut furiously and grit his teeth in anger.

_You stupid idiot._

The saying went that there was no use crying over spilt milk. And whoever had made that up definitely had a point. Only, it was easier said than done to tune out your emotions. Even if it was entirely useless that you're experiencing them in the first place. Maybe Snape could show him how to do so.

_Snape._

Would the man realise that he was gone? He hadn't been too happy when Harry had been locked inside of his cupboard for two days but he hadn't exactly looked for him either. So why would he now? If only Harry had just been a tad more forthcoming. Of course, if Snape had been a more approachable person, he might have done just that. But he wasn't. Snape was Snape. And he hated Harry Potter. So even if he knew…

_He probably wouldn't care._

Harry eyed the two slices of bread that were still waiting for his attention. One of them had gotten a bit soggy because of the spilt water, red tinging the crust. Harry grimaced and debated with himself if he should still eat it. It wasn't as if he had a large reserve that he could survive on and he hadn't eaten all that much over the last couple of days. He sighed and resigned himself to eating the polluted bread. Moving very slowly and carefully, he ripped pieces of the bread and put it in his mouth doing his very best to ignore the red taint.

_Pain au sang_

It took him a good thirty minutes to eat all of the bread that he had been given. And if he was entirely honest with himself, it didn't taste all that bad. It was enough to neutralize the foul taste that had lingered in his mouth since the moment he had woken up and that was enough. His stomach didn't feel as if it was eating itself anymore either. That just left more focus on his other aches, though.

Harry looked at his surroundings, wondering if he could somehow find a way out. The table that Vernon had used to trap him was thrown haphazardly aside and lay on its back, its legs raised in the air. Next to it lay the cables that Vernon had used to beat Harry into submission. Blood flecked the floor where they had been tossed.

_Much like a mosaic of pain._

Merlin, when did he become so poetic? Was it the blood loss? Or perhaps it was the boredom of just sitting there without having anything to do. Or being able to do for that matter. Harry tore his gaze away from the 'weapon' and looked up. A few windows littered the wall to his right but they were small. Too small for even Harry to crawl through. Not that he would have been able to hoist his body up anyway. The window could have been large enough for _Vernon_ to crawl through and it wouldn't have mattered.

Some shovels and rakes were placed against the wall and weren't too far out of Harry's reach should he have a use for them. He couldn't think of anything, though. Sure, he could probably make a lot of noise using the gardening tools but what good would that do him? If Vernon heard him, he was definitely as good as dead and if a neighbour heard him, they would assume someone was working inside.

He briefly considered screaming to make it more obvious that he was in distress but he was still terrified of alerting Vernon. And besides, he knew that his voice could not carry very far at that moment.

_Why isn't telepathy a thing in the wizarding world? On second thought, it might be. But how would one go about it? You'd probably need a wand._

Harry chuckled to himself despite the situation at the thought of sending a distress call to Snape. What would it even say? 'Help, I'm locked in the shed. Bring food?'

Slowly, Harry became more able to move himself and considered that his situation might be improving if only marginally so.

He wondered if his aunt knew what had happened. He had no doubt that she knew that  
Vernon had beaten him again but was she aware of the extent of it? Might she be even a little bit horrified if she knew just how far her husband had gone this time? Even if she didn't like Harry, surely she could not think this was a good way of treating him.

_Surely not._

Harry now realised without a doubt that if Vernon ever found out about what he had done to Dudley, he would be dead. It would probably not even take that long. Knowing Vernon, he would be so upset that he would take his shotgun and simply shoot Harry down. A bullet right in the chest, perhaps. Maybe one in the head. He really hoped that the people at St Mungo's obliviated his idiot cousin.

Harry shivered involuntarily. Even though it was the middle of the summer, Harry felt very cold. Another bad sign. It was probably because of the blood loss. His uncle was a fool. If he really wanted Harry to survive, he should just take him to a hospital already.

_And expose his brutish ways to the world while he's at it._

Harry shook his head. Right. There was no way that that was going to happen. He manoeuvred himself onto his hands and knees, careful not to jar his broken foot too much. Not that it mattered all that much anyway. Any movement hurt him, be it because of his foot, arm or numerous other painful issues.

His glasses fell off his nose as soon as he bent over and he noticed only now that the right ear had come off. He gritted his teeth in an effort to combat the feeling of hopelessness that was becoming worse with every figurative step he took but he knew that he should keep going. He was not a Gryffindor for no reason.

_Courage, Bravery, Nerve, Chivalry_

Harry sighed to himself before taking his glasses as well as the broken ear and putting them inside of his pocket.

_Recklessness, short-tempered._

Why did he have to goad his uncle every step of the way? His cousin as well. If he hadn't insulted him when he did, the big lump would never have tried to stab him and he wouldn't be in this mess. He would now be locked into his room, staring at the ceiling out of boredom and Snape would be… wherever Snapes usually spent the summer holidays.

_Maybe he likes going to the beach._

Merlin, he was becoming delusional. Forcefully shoving the image of Snape in his swimming trunks out of his mind, he continued crawling towards the door. He knew it was locked and yet he wanted to try it just to make sure. It was like knowing that the button to the elevator had already been pressed but pressing it again for good measure.

The effect was as expected. The door was locked. Not very tightly since a padlock was very insufficient for a door such as this one but enough to keep in one very beaten up teenager. Harry sighed, cursing the restriction on underage magic for the umpteenth time over the course of four years' worth of bad summers.

He knocked on the door. Once. Twice. Thrice.

Soon, he found himself entertaining himself by knocking in a hypnotically even fashion. At first, he had done so in the hopes that someone might hear, without the immediate threat of his uncle ripping his throat out as a repercussion but soon the sound and motion almost seemed to ease his anxiety. At least somewhat.

_I'm never going to curse my life for having to do homework again. Not even for potions._

Harry might have sat there for an hour, knocking on that damn wooden door in a barely noticeable fashion when he was shaken out of his reveries by a voice that was both familiar and also strangely foreign.

"Potter?"

_Oh, thank Merlin!_

"Snape," Harry whispered, doing his best not to sound overly excited to be in his hated Potions Master's presence.

"What in Merlin's name are you doing in there?" Snape growled angrily. "Don't you understand the necessity of staying inside the house? Or has it slipped your mind that the Dark Lord has made his return?"

Harry groaned at Snape's immediate accusatory tone and kept knocking on the door just to annoy him. "You really are a git, do you know that?" he sighed in exasperation.

"Potter!" Snape barked. "Cease this adolescent behaviour and make your way inside this instant."

Harry scoffed. "Really, Snape," he said quietly. "For all the brain cells you claim to have, not one of them has noticed that I'm locked in here."

_Recklessness, Short-tempered_

Damn it all, he was doing it again! Snape was his only certain means of rescue right now and for some reason, Harry thought it a splendid idea to try and chase the man away with his witty comebacks. He could always blame it on the blood loss.

_This time._

"I'm sorry, sir," Harry quickly added. "I'm just –"

_Experiencing hellish pains the likes I've rarely had to go through before._

"Frustrated."

"Why are you locked in here, Potter?" Snape asked icily. "Did you misbehave in such a fashion that your relatives didn't know what else to do with you?"

Now Harry began to panic. If Snape thought this confinement was simply his just deserts, he might just walk away and not come back.

"Please," Harry said, finally stopping the knocking on the door and pressing his hand against it as if trying to grab hold of Snape who was standing right behind it. He knew that his desperation came through clear as day in his voice but he didn't care anymore. Any mortification that would stem from this moment was future-Harry's problem.

"Please. I didn't do anything! I'm –" Harry willed his voice to stop trembling. "I'm hurt, sir. I don't – I don't think I'll make it much longer."

The frustrated sigh coming from the other side of the door did nothing to ease Harry's worries.

"Are you sure that you're not being overdramatic, Potter?" Snape asked calmly. Too calmly for Harry's current predicament. Harry allowed his head to lol forward so that his forehead made a soft knocking sound against the door.

"There's so much blood," Harry whispered. "And I think my foot is broken. My arm's in a bad way too. Please, sir."

_I can't believe I'm pleading with Snape. Malfoy will never let me hear the end of this._

"Please open the door. If you see what you expect to see you can always just lock me back in. But please –" Harry noticed to his horror that he was crying. "Surely it can't hurt to check."

"Calm yourself, Potter," Snape said and Harry was relieved to hear the tell-tale hint of worry in his voice. "As I said, I believe you should be inside this house rather than in a garden shed. Wards or not. Now stand clear of the door. I'm coming in."

Harry scooted away from the door, hissing in pain as he jarred numerous injuries doing so. It didn't matter, though. Help was on the way. Even if it came in the form of his most hated teacher. Well, at least this one had yet to try and kill him.

"I'm clear," Harry said, anxiously watching the door. He heard the lock click open and the door swung inward. Harry - who was still sitting on the floor – looked up to see the form of his Potions Master in all his glory, his dark gaze transfixed on the large pool of blood in which Harry had spent the night and most of the day.

"Sir," Harry said and Snape's dark gaze snapped to his broken form. "You've lost your disguise."

Snape swore under his breath as he took in the condition Harry was in. He glanced over his shoulder and walked into the shed, shutting the door behind him.

"Potter, what in the world have you done to yourself?" Snape asked harshly but there was doubt in his voice.

"Can we talk about this some other time?" Harry practically begged. The darkness that had been edging at his vision was increasing in size and fierceness as if his body was ready to shut down now that he knew that someone found him.

But Snape wouldn't let him descend into oblivion. Before Harry realised it, a potion vial was pressed against his lips. The liquid that was inside of it quickly intruded its way into Harry's throat and he almost spluttered it back out in surprise. But Snape held his hand against Harry's mouth, forcing him to swallow the vile-tasting potion.

"What was – hmph!"

Before Harry could protest, a second potion was forced down his throat, quickly followed by a third. When those had been successfully ingested as well, Snape stepped back and scrutinised the insides of the wooden shed with a bit more care.

Harry felt a bit better. The pain had receded to an overall dull thud and the dizziness was gone.

"What were those?" Harry asked.

"Blood replenisher, pain-reliever and a pepper-up," Snape replied coldly. "I suppose it was too much to ask for the golden boy to recognise these rudimentary potions, was it?"

Harry didn't think he was supposed to reply but he couldn't stop himself.

"I wasn't exactly in the position to carefully check them before you forced them down my throat!" he defended himself. "Now how come you're not disguised as my cousin? Did something – ARGH!"

With the receding of the pain, Harry stupidly forgot about his broken foot and had tried to stand up only to come crashing back down in agony and sheer mortification. He instantly felt nauseous but did his best to keep the two pieces of bread he had ingested inside of his stomach.

"Bloody hell," he muttered, breathing heavily for a few seconds. He looked back up only to find Snape regarding him carefully now. His jaw was clenched in what appeared to be anger and Harry wondered what he had done now to antagonise his professor so.

"I'm sorry, okay?" he said half-heartedly. "I know that this is probably not what you wanted to deal with today but it's not as if I've done this to myself."

"Then pray tell, Potter," Snape replied softly, "who did?"

Harry scoffed. "Take a wild guess," he growled. Despite his many shortcomings, Harry knew that Snape was supremely intelligent. He would have been able to put one and one together by now. And Harry did not want to give him the satisfaction of saying it aloud.

_My muggle uncle beat the shit out of me._

Yeah, that would sound pathetic beyond words.

Snape's gaze flickered towards the discarded cables, holding a darkness that Harry could only hope would not be directed at him. For a moment, the man didn't seem to know what to do. For all the strength and confidence he exuded on a daily basis, he now looked lost. So much so that Harry felt a flicker of pity for him.

"Come with me to your room, Potter," Snape snarled. "Unless you enjoy staying in this filthy shack, of course."

_Well, that didn't last long._

"Sure thing, Professor," Harry replied sardonically. "You go right ahead and I'll catch up with you once my foot points in the correct direction again. I'll be there probably around oh… let's say never!"

Suddenly, Snape was kneeling besides Harry and for one horrible moment, Harry expected Snape to snap his foot back in place himself. He swallowed harshly in anticipation. But Snape did nothing of the sort. He merely lifted the hem of Harry's bloody pant leg with as much care as could be expected from Madame Pomfrey. He clicked his tongue when he saw the swelling and waved his wand to remove Harry's shoe without causing too much pain.

Harry watched it all happen in amazement.

_Still delirious, I think._

"Fine," Snape grumbled, pulling Harry upright with his left arm. "Lean on me if you must. We'll be getting out of here immediately."

"But sir," Harry protested. "My things."

Snape released a long-suffering sigh before staring down at Harry with his typical cold gaze. Harry bit the inside of his lip but didn't avert his gaze.

"We'll get your things first," Snape conceded. "And then we'll decide on what to do with you."

Whatever that was going to be, the way Snape said it made it sound less than agreeable. But since his only other option was the Dursleys, Harry figured that he didn't have much of a choice.

This mess was becoming bigger and bigger and Harry found that he was no longer in control.

Not that he had ever been.

* * *

_I hope this chapter was worth the wait and I'm very eager to hear what you think of it. Please do let me know! In the mean time, I'll keep on writing._  
_See you next Friday!_


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Snape was about to walk into the house when Harry stopped him with a feeble-sounding 'sir'.

"What is it _now_, Potter?" Snape snapped harshly. Whatever patience the man had exhibited this last week or so had finally run out and Harry feared that he would be the one to face the consequences. And yet, he didn't think he should keep quiet.

"Shouldn't you drink some more Polyjuice Potion?" Harry asked. "It's just that – you don't look like…" Harry trailed off when he noticed the dark look Snape shot at him.

"I am aware of my current form, Potter," Snape told him icily. "And it has been decided that a disguise is no longer necessary."

"What?" Harry asked, still not moving. "When?"

Snape looked on the verge of shouting but managed to reply as neutrally as he could. "About fifteen minutes ago."

_Because of me?_

"Sir," Harry breathed in a slight panic. "What about Dudley? What about the mission?" The situation was an odd one. Harry was still holding onto Snape's arm with as much force as he could muster lest he falls down. But at that moment, he really wanted to put some distance between himself and the dark, perpetually angry man. A man that hated him and was now about to walk him inside the house. He kept telling himself that Snape would not abandon him but the doubt in the back of his mind did not want to go away.

"Potter," Snape snapped. "What are you attempting to convince me of? Would you rather we continue this charade? Is it really so desirable to have me living in the coddling lap of luxury in your cousin's stead while you practically bleed to death?"

_Depends on the alternative._

"There is no other choice," Harry argued. "Not for me. And if my uncle finds out what happened to his son –"

Snape's lip curled in disgust. He wouldn't be distracted anymore and without much consideration, he pushed open the door dragging a stumbling Harry behind him. The kitchen was empty and Snape deposited Harry onto a chair without much grace. He took a moment to fill a glass of water and slammed it down in front of Harry before storming off in a whirl of robes. If Harry could read auras he was sure that Snape's would be impossibly dark at that moment.

Angry or not, Snape still moved as stealthily as a cat and Harry was momentarily surprised because of the lack of angry footfalls. It was no wonder that the man was so hard to avoid. He gulped down the glass of water and waited.

He looked at his hands that were holding the glass rather unsteadily and noticed that they were caked with blood. For a moment, he couldn't help but wonder what he looked like. If someone were to look through the window right now, how horrified would they be? If it wasn't for his fragile state, his morbid curiosity would have won and he would have gone to the nearest mirror. Right now, the effort that that would take didn't seem worth it, though.

_Maybe Snape can take a picture to remember this moment. He might even put it on his fridge._

"Boy?" It was almost comical how surprised the voice of Vernon Dursley sounded when he found Harry sitting at his kitchen table.

Harry looked up at the walrus of a man that didn't look so much angry as perplexed and Harry cocked his head to the side, minutely wondering if his uncle had been replaced by someone drinking polyjuice as well. That might have been a funny coincidence.

That thought was extinguished when Vernon's face finally turned into a dark shade of purple that was the sign that he was about to throw a fit.

_Like a toddler. Just a very big one that can do a lot of damage._

"I didn't do this myself if that's what you think," Harry said, surprised at how weary he sounded. "Someone found me and let me out."

That did the trick. The purple as well as any other colour drained from Vernon's face as he steadied himself on the kitchen counter.

"Who?" he asked hoarsely. Harry was debating on whether or not to have his uncle believe that it was an unsuspecting neighbour that found him. Perhaps even a police officer. But the truth was that the reality would probably seem a lot scarier.

"One of my professors," Harry replied honestly.

_Snape. Where are you?_

"What did you tell him?" Vernon asked, now scowling menacingly. He was no longer gripping the kitchen counter and took a step towards Harry who just couldn't bring himself to move.

"Nothing much," Harry said, gripping the glass tighter and wondering if he could smash it on Vernon's head should the need arise.

"Where is he now, boy?" Vernon asked. He grabbed Harry by the collar of his shirt and began shaking him violently. Despite the pain reliever potion, Harry's injuries jarred painfully and he couldn't help but cry out.

"WHERE?" Vernon bellowed.

"I'm right here."

_Merlin, was he just waiting for a dramatic moment to step in?_

Vernon turned his head towards the tall, menacing form of the Potions Master that was now standing in the doorway and gripped Harry tighter. Harry didn't know if he did so out of fear or just the enjoyment of instilling pain but it hurt. He lifted the glass and knocked it against Vernon's thick head only to see it bounce back without effect and dropping on the floor with a loud crash, glass shattering everywhere. He hadn't even realised how little strength he had left until that moment.

"Idiot boy!" Vernon bellowed, dropping Harry to the floor and keeping him there with his foot before turning fully to address Snape. But that small moment had taken away any advantage Vernon might have had. Not that any muggle would ever stand a chance of harming Snape but it was the thought that counted.

Before Vernon could even shout 'Out', Snape had pushed him roughly into the wall behind him, pressing his wand into the thick layers of fat that were supposed to be the man's neck. Harry thought the floor was an excellent place to watch the show from and made no move to get up. Glass be damned.

"I never imagined it possible to meet a muggle as despicable as you, Dursley," Snape spat angrily, spittle flying into Vernon's face. "But here we are. Tell me. Do you think it amusing to beat up a defenceless child? Does it make you feel big and strong?"

"He's hardly defenceless," Vernon retorted with much more courage than was smart in the face of Snape's powerful rage. "You know what he is. He's constantly using his wretched hocus pocus to attack my family!"

Snape narrowed his eyes and used even more pressure on his wand. "Is that so?" he asked silkily. "Surely you must be aware that the ministry monitors his use of magic closely. If he did indeed use magic to attack you – as you claim – how did he bypass the ministry?"

"Ask the freak yourself!" Vernon bellowed. "How should I know how he keeps up his criminal ways!"

Snape glanced at Harry who made a valiant attempt to at least sit upright. The pain reliever potion was quickly wearing off and the boy was struggling.

"I didn't," he gasped in the face of the accusations. He couldn't have Snape believe his uncle. The fear that the man might just leave him here after all had not left Harry yet and he couldn't help but try and make Snape see that he wasn't the boy the professor had always believed he was.

"You're a menace!" Vernon bellowed. "A parasite that has done nothing but bring misery to my family!"

A high-pitched shriek caused all three males to look at its source. Aunt Petunia had arrived at the scene – no doubt summoned by Vernon's loud voice – and was looking at the scene in horror with her hands clasped in front of her mouth.

"Vernon!" she exclaimed before her gaze focused on Snape. "Leave him alone. He's done noth –" She stopped talking abruptly as she recognised the intruder. All of her fear seemed to ebb away instantly. She narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms.

"Severus Snape," she growled. Harry noticed that her voice dripped with hatred almost as much as when she was talking to him. "Unhand my husband at once, you filthy hoodlum!"

"It does not come as a surprise that you've changed so little, Tuney," Snape retorted coldly. "Though time has definitely not been kind to you."

A myriad of thoughts ran through Harry's head, each one fighting to get to the forefront of his mind to receive the attention it deserved. He was bombarded with too much information at once. Enough even to momentarily forget about his crippling pain.

His aunt knew Snape. She actually _knew_ him! She had recognised the man almost instantly and saw fit to address him with his full name. Something not many people Harry knew would dare to do. Of course, most of those people were students but still!

Not only that, but Petunia went so far as to actually insult Snape. 'A filthy hoodlum' she called him. Where had that even come from?

Harry shifted slightly, only to feel some of the glass crunch painfully into his elbow but he really wanted to see his uncle's reaction.

It turned out to be one of utter shock. He kept opening and closing his mouth as if he were a fish on dry land but for once, Harry could understand him. He didn't know what to say either.

But the surprises didn't stop there. Snape had not only not obliterated Petunia as soon as she dared to call him names but he had simply insulted her in kind. To top all of these juicy revelations off with a nice big cherry was the fact that Snape had called her Tuney. Tuney! Where had that come from?

The two adults clearly knew each other but Harry was certain that Snape had never set foot at this house before. Vernon clearly didn't know him and Harry hadn't ever seen him here either. Not only that but Snape had implied that Petunia had aged poorly. That meant that he knew her from before.

_Please don't tell me they ever dated._

"How dare you step foot into my house!" Petunia screeched. "After everything you've done!"

"I find it rather telling how you keep yelling at me while your nephew is bleeding on the floor," Snape said calmly. "Cold as ever, are you?"

Petunia scoffed. "Please," she bit angrily. "As if you are such a kind-hearted person. I don't see you picking the freak up, either."

"Careful, Tuney," Snape said silkily and Harry thought he saw a flash of a predatory smile. "I'm momentarily engaged with detaining your husband. But I could always kill him and be done with it."

A whimper escaped Vernon and Harry felt oddly satisfied about that. Still…

_I don't think I could handle it if they were ever lovers!_

Petunia had blanched at Snape's threat and now just stood there. "You wouldn't," she whispered.

"I might," Snape replied easily. "I would very much like to. You see, I don't take too kindly to child abusers."

"I'm not –" Harry started but Snape shot him such an awful glare that he clamped his mouth shut.

"It's nothing he doesn't deserve," Petunia tried in Vernon's defence. "We never wanted him. He was just dropped on our doorstep. Like a package."

Snape glanced at Harry again and obviously saw something he didn't like because the line of his lips thinned even more and his eyes narrowed dangerously. He waved his wand and where Vernon stood before now sat a slimy toad.

"I've had enough of this," he snarled. He waved his wand again and levitated Harry back into the chair.

"Touch one hair on Mr Potter's head and you will meet the same fate as your husband," he warned. "And I think you would want to know what happened to your son."

"What?" Petunia screeched, trying to understand Snape's revelation as well as the transfiguration of her husband into a toad. "What happened to Dudley?"

"Be silent," Snape snapped. "And don't move."

He stalked into the hallway and flicked his wand once, opening the door to the cupboard under the stairs. Another flick of his wand and the trunk levitated after him as he went up the stairs, disappearing out of sight.

Harry was starting to feel decidedly dizzy. The combination of searing pain, blood loss and the revelations of the past minutes made his head swim.

His aunt Petunia had sunk down against the wall and was now crying into her hands, the toad named Vernon sitting quietly next to her.

"Dudley," she whimpered to herself. "What have they done to you?"

Harry couldn't help but feel sorry for her. He realised how stupid that was. He knew that it was ridiculous to feel any sort of pity for this woman but he did anyway.

"He'll be okay," Harry said softly.

That drew Petunia's attention. Her head snapped up so she could look at Harry. The hatred in her eyes was enough to make Harry look away.

"What do you know?" she hissed. "Did you hurt him?"

"I –"

"What did you do?!"

"Please, Aunt Petunia," Harry said. "Calm down. Dudley's in the hospital right now but he'll be fine."

She didn't seem to believe so. She began crying her eyes out while the toad next to her started croaking loudly.

"Hospital?" she asked. "Which one? Why?"

"The magical kind," Harry said, thinking he really should shut up now. "He was… altered a bit and they're trying to rectify that."

This didn't comfort Petunia either. She started wailing louder and seemed to be trying to contain herself not to hit Harry herself.

"Why?" she asked hopelessly. "Why do you always try to hurt him like this?"

Despite his exhaustion, Harry felt the beginnings of rage bubbling in the pit of his stomach. He was overcome with the need to defend himself even though he knew that it would be futile.

"He came at me with a knife," he said. "He could've killed me."

"Liar," Petunia hissed. "Dudley would never do such a thing."

"He's a bully," Harry pointed out. "Just like his father."

_You're provoking her again. What's wrong with you? Do you want to get smacked?_

"You filthy freak," Petunia said, pointing a finger at the boy accusingly. "If Dudley is not returned to me safe and sound you can be sure that I will personally hunt you down and end you myself."

Harry stared at her wide-eyed.

_Where did that suddenly come from?_

The scary thing was that Harry believed her. Petunia was like a mother lion who would do anything to protect her cub. Much like Lily had done for Harry. It had always hurt Harry to know that Petunia would never protect _him_ as fiercely. Or at all, really. Here he sat, battered and broken at her kitchen table and she still saw fit to threaten him with murder. And yes. Harry knew without a doubt that she was serious. Not that she would be able to find Hogwarts but he needed the blood wards. He needed to at least be tolerated by her. He would still need to come back here.

Swallowing thickly, he buried his own anger and disappointment before carefully braving Petunia's unbridled rage. She hadn't moved yet. Instead, she was clenching her fists so tightly that Harry knew she must be drawing blood.

"He will be fine," Harry said. "There won't be any permanent damage. You'll have your precious son back unharmed."

Harry refocused his gaze when Snape appeared in the doorway again, Harry's trunk floating behind him.

"Time to go," he said coldly.

"Wait," Harry said. "Did you find…" Harry had hidden his wand and most prized possessions underneath the loose floorboard but he wasn't about to reveal his hiding space in the vicinity of his relatives."

Snape fixed him with a knowing glare. "I found everything," he assured him. "We haven't much time. Come with me."

He offered his arm to Harry who took it gratefully, using it to hoist himself to his feet. He didn't let go even when he thought he might be able to stand by himself. He didn't trust his body to stay upright for very long. Thankfully, Snape didn't yank back his arm either.

"What about Vernon?" Petunia then spat, nothing but venom in her words. "You can't just do this. I know that's illegal!"

Snape turned around so fast that Harry had to steady himself on his cloak so he wouldn't fall. When he looked at the Potions Master's face, he saw disgust and anger there that he hadn't ever seen before. Not even aimed at Neville.

"Illegal?" he repeated slowly. "And how do you think the authorities would react when they find out what happened here? What do you presume I'll reply when they ask me why I transformed your dear husband?"

Petunia bit her lip as if trying not to insult Snape further.

"And what do you imagine the magical authorities would do to you when they find out what you've done to what many consider to be the saviour of the magical world?" he added smoothly.

_Oh, fantastic. Now even Snape's playing the 'Harry Potter' card._

"You can't do this to normal people!" Petunia sputtered. In a moment of what Harry could only assume was temporary insanity, Petunia picked up a vase and threw it at Snape with all her might. Snape simply flicked his wand and the vase smashed against an invisible wall. Not even the water inside of it reached either Snape or Harry. And yet, Harry couldn't help but flinch.

Petunia screeched right after her failed attempt and backed up against the wall once more, holding up her arms in a makeshift shield as if they would protect her from Snape's wrath.

"Don't hurt her," Harry managed to plead.

Very slowly, Snape turned his head to look at the boy still clinging to him as if he were some sort of lifeline. His eyes narrowed in what Harry could only describe as contempt as he spoke. "I beg your pardon?"

"She's just upset about Dudley," Harry reasoned. "And you turned her husband into a toad!"

Vaguely aware that he was forcing Snape to carry more and more of his weight, Harry gripped Snape's arm hard enough to leave a bruise.

_I feel pale. Is that even possible? It probably is, because I do. Merlin, I feel sick._

"Your beloved husband will turn back to his repulsive self in a couple of hours," Snape said, not taking his eyes off Harry. "But I assure you that I will not leave things like this."

Then, Snape snaked his arm around Harry's waist and stormed out the door, Harry's trunk floating in his wake. Petunia didn't utter another sound as they left her behind in grief and sorrow. And despite everything, Harry felt bad for her.

"S-sir," Harry began with much difficulty. He didn't think he was even walking anymore at that point. Sure, he still moved his feet and they sort of made contact with the ground but his legs were not supporting his weight any longer. Something else was.

"Hush, Potter," Snape replied.

"C-can't you t-t-turn my uncle… my uncle…"

"I told you to stay quiet," Snape snarled. "Don't overexert yourself and focus."

And then, Harry couldn't even pretend to walk anymore. His legs tried to buckle underneath him but strong arms kept him upright. Harry was about ready to drop dead with embarrassment. He never showed anyone any weakness. And most definitely not Snape.

"You hardly weigh a thing," Snape muttered.

"I'm s-sorry," Harry said, wishing desperately that he could just black out. Since his body didn't deem that a good idea yet, he focused on the road ahead. It soon became clear to him that they were nearing Mrs Figg's house.

_Is he going to drop me off at my babysitter's?_

Harry could help but chuckle very lightly.

"I can't for the life of me imagine what you could possibly find amusing at this moment, Potter," Snape drawled. "Are you delirious?"

"No," Harry said simply, not in the mood to speak any more than that.

To Harry's surprise, Snape did end up banging on Mrs Figg's door and he kept doing so until she opened it. Her eyes went wide with surprise when she saw Snape stand in front of her, carrying a half-dead Harry with him.

"Severus!" she gasped. "What happened?"

"Never mind that, Arabella," Snape told her sharply. "I need to use your floo."

_He knows Mrs Figg as well? I never considered him to be the social type before._

Mrs Figg stepped aside and allowed both of them entry. She seemed struck with horror and Harry tried to smile at her as to alleviate her worry.

Snape dragged – well, let's just be honest here. Carried – Harry to the fireplace. A small saucer with floo powder that Harry had never noticed before lay waiting to be used.

_Hold on! She's a witch? What's going on here?!_

"W-What –"

"Hush," Snape chided sternly. He grabbed a fistful of the powder and threw it into the hearth, causing it to turn green. Harry still couldn't believe it. Maybe he was delirious after all. Maybe this was all a fever dream. Maybe he never hexed Dudley in the first place. Maybe –

"Hogwarts, hospital wing!"

Without even having noticed it, Snape had placed himself into the fireplace with Harry firmly secured in his arms. After stating their destination, Harry was flung into the endless corridors that were the floo network. He saw fireplaces left and right pass by at an extraordinarily fast pace he just couldn't handle right now. So he closed his eyes and trusted Snape to get him safely to – Hogwarts, he had said, right?

It was a few short moments later that they emerged from the network as they were spat out by a familiar fireplace. Or it would have been familiar if Harry had kept his eyes open.

"Potter?" Snape asked and Harry realised that he might have thought him passed out.

"Present," Harry replied weekly. Snape scoffed and lifted him into his arms, now forfeiting all pretence that Harry was still carrying his own weight. Harry clenched his jaw when this aggravated his injuries but he didn't react in any other way. Snape had already seen enough weakness from him for one day. It would be enough fuel to keep the Slytherin gossip burning for a very long time.

He was deposited onto a bed and blearily looked at Snape to try and find out what would happen to him next.

"Don't allow yourself to fall asleep," Snape told him. His tone of voice told Harry that he was serious and that there would be hell to pay should Harry disobey. But when Snape stalked off in a hurry – probably to fetch Madame Pomfrey – Harry couldn't help but feel that closing his eyes for a moment would not be that bad. He would just open them again as soon as Snape came back. The man wouldn't even notice.

_I won't fall asleep._

But the events of not only that day but of the past week were finally catching up to him. And soon, Harry found himself returned to the lovely embrace of darkness. It had never failed to keep him safe before and it would do so again.

_On second thought, I'll apologise tomorrow._

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_You have all been so kind with your reviews. Thank you very much. _  
_Yesterday I had a brainstorming session with my beta and you won't believe what I have planned for you! It will be great! Please let me know what you thought of the chapter and maybe I'll update sooner. I'm thinking of updating twice a week from here on out just to see if I can manage it._

_Thanks for reading!_


	7. Chapter 7

_Wow guys! 200 reviews for 6 chapters? I am honoured by your positive feedback. Thank you all so much! You leave me no choice but to attempt to update twice a week instead of once, so here we are. Thank you all so much._

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**Chapter 7**

It was strange, Harry reflected, how one could be exhausted beyond belief without even realising it. So used to waking up early every day, he was, that the heaviness of his eyelids came as a complete surprise when next he woke. He couldn't move. In fact, he couldn't even produce a sound of any sort. His brain was still much too befuddled with sleep and was slowly pulling him back into the darkness. Harry would like nothing more but to withdraw into nothingness when he heard the low whisper of voices nearby.

"This is unacceptable, Headmaster. Forgive me for saying you are out of your mind."

Whoever had spoken was hissing with nothing but malice. How very brave they must be to speak to Dumbledore in that tone of voice. He _was_ the headmaster, right? Hmmm, Harry wasn't entirely sure anymore.

"I assure you that I merely want what's best."

"For whom?" That angry hiss again. Surely, Dumbledore did not deserve such malice. If it was indeed him.

A sigh resounded, followed by a silence that lasted long enough for Harry to almost drift back to sleep. When he exhaled, his warm breath touched his fingers, which he now realised were curled onto the pillow next to him.

"Would you take a good look, Albus?" The voice was getting a bit louder and a lot less respectful. Harry thought he could almost identify it and flinched inwardly at the stern sound, recognition almost within his grasp.

"This is not what's best for anyone!"

"I need to consider many things, Severus," came Dumbledore's tired voice. Neither man was still whispering and Harry's befuddled mind slowly crept back into consciousness.

_Severus. Snape? But he's supposed to be pretending to be Dudley. What's Dumbledore doing at the Dursleys?_

"He was nearly beaten to death!"

Realisation hit Harry as if he was slapped in the face. His eyes shot open almost as if it had been entirely involuntary and his panicked gaze focused on the empty chair sitting next to his bed. Somewhere behind his back, Snape was engaging Dumbledore in a rather heated discussion, both of them seemingly unaware that Harry was still there.

_They're talking about me! Oh, Merlin, this is bad. What do I do now?_

"While I never knew that they were capable of such violence, surely you understand the necessity of the wards now more than ever," Dumbledore said. His voice almost had a pleading quality to it and Harry wondered who he was trying to convince. And of what.

"He has to go back, eventually."

_Ah, so that's it. Well, no surprise there._

"No," Snape said, sounding resolute.

"I needn't remind you that Voldemort has, in fact, returned," Dumbledore said. This time, he sounded authoritarian and rigid.

Snape growled and Harry clenched the thin blanket with his left hand. "I am aware of the circumstances," Snape spat. "But you'll forgive me if I don't see the merit of keeping him alive just so some muggle can kill him!"

_That's a bit exaggerated, really._

Harry was slowly becoming aware of the pain that was gradually spreading through his limbs once more. As if it hadn't ever really been gone but was giving Harry the time to properly wake up before disturbing him again. It was as good a reason as any to make his awakening known, really. He shifted a bit and pushed himself upright, refusing to show the difficulty that took him. The two arguing men stopped reprimanding each other as Harry bravely met their gazes.

For a moment, it seemed as if no one knew just what to say. The silence was hard on Harry's nerves and he swallowed thickly, wanting more than anything to break through the uncomfortable mist of quiet that seemed to hang in the hospital wing.

"Good morning," Harry attempted weakly, though the darkness outside should have been a hint that morning had not yet come and wouldn't for a while. Snape scoffed and crossed his arms while Dumbledore moved to sit in the previously unoccupied chair.

_No transfiguration into something more comfortable? How very unexpected._

"It's not yet morning, Harry," Dumbledore said, smiling kindly. "But since you're up, would you mind telling us how you feel?"

_I'm only up because neither of you could keep your voice down._

"I'm okay," Harry replied, shrugging despite the pain. "And don't worry. I understand that I need to go back."

_It's not as if I really have anywhere else to go. And I certainly do not need to be pitied._

A low growl emanating frustration and anger erupted from Snape's throat and Harry couldn't help but stare at him.

"That's not an option," Snape spat through clenched teeth. "Would you look at the state you're in?"

"Oh, this?" Harry asked, making light of the situation. "It's nothing really. It probably looks a bit harsh to wizards such as yourself but this is just the muggle way of disciplining their children."

The white-hot rage on Snape's face was enough to make Harry flinch back but the strangled sound of agony in Dumbledore's throat was worse.

"Potter!" Snape spat. "I'm certain that I know not whether you truly believe that or if you're simply lying but I assure you that I know enough about muggles to know that _that_ is not true."

Harry huffed in frustration. He looked at his arm that was wrapped in a tight bandage and clicked his tongue in dismay. What was Snape even trying to accomplish, really?

"Does it matter?" Harry asked, trying to keep his voice as even as possible. "I have to go back there anyway. I heard the headmaster." Harry cringed a bit when the volatile pains started wracking his body and pulled the covers up to his chin to try and hide his trembling form.

"Harry –" Dumbledore started only to be interrupted by Snape.

"That will not happen," Snape said angrily. "I have had enough of your Gryffindorian outlook on this situation." His sharp eyes seemed to reprimand both Harry and Dumbledore with that statement. Harry couldn't help but feel disgruntled about that. He was only trying to accommodate Dumbledore, after all.

"Severus, this had nothing to do with –"

"Albus," Snape interrupted again. "When I came to you earlier to report the muggle's strange behaviour, I agreed with you to keep him there despite their ill treatment of the boy. Even though my instincts screamed at me to not do so."

"And yet, you brought him here," Dumbledore pointed out.

"Only because I came back to find your precious golden boy locked in a shed, dying on the floor."

"It wasn't that bad," Harry tried again. Snape's response to that was a murderous glare.

"I want to make one thing clear to you, Harry," Dumbledore said sternly. "What your relatives did is absolutely abhorrent and inexcusable. Were the situation not as dire as it is, I—" Dumbledore sighed and seemed to try and compose himself before continuing. "I will talk to them about this and set them straight."

_Sure, throw some gasoline onto the fire, why don't you?_

Snape snorted. "Perhaps I should just deliver him to the Dark Lord and get this over with now," he suggested sardonically. "It would save us all a lot of trouble."

"Severus!" Dumbledore chided but Harry couldn't help but chuckle. He knew it wasn't supposed to be funny. He really did. But the idea of Snape delivering him to Voldemort just to save him from the Dursleys seemed entirely ridiculous. Maybe Voldemort would invite him for tea and whisper kind assurances into his ear. Would he have snuggly blankets for comfort? The pink kind complete with tassels.

"Does something amuse you, Mr Potter?" Snape asked coldly. His arms were crossed in that closed off sort of way as he stared at the young Gryffindor. His posture was rigid and his glare unyielding. It was very strange to consider that this man, in particular, seemed so intent on removing Harry from the Dursleys.

Realising that he was expected to respond, Harry shook his head. "No," he said. "I'm just a bit tired, I think."

"And rightly so," Dumbledore said resolutely. With agility beyond his years, he righted himself and made a show of straightening his robes. To Harry, it felt as if he was reluctant to leave. He startled a bit when Dumbledore put a comforting hand on his shoulder and was glad to see that the man chose to ignore it. "You've been through a lot today, Harry," he said.

Harry did his best not to respond to that. _Today_. As if the treatment he endured was exceptional rather than common. Instead, he forced his expression into one of resignation and nodded.

"Get some sleep," Dumbledore continued. He gave Harry's shoulder a light squeeze before locking eyes with Snape and inclining his head towards the door.

Harry didn't reply. He was too tired to make polite conversation and respect the rules of proper decorum. He noticed that Snape was staring at him and narrowed his eyes at the man. He might have taken him out of that house for now but that didn't give him leave to regard him as if he were some rare potions ingredients. It was nothing short of creepy, really.

He wasn't the one to break eye contact. Instead, Dumbledore took Snape by the elbow and dragged the man with him. Snape scoffed at that but allowed himself to be led out of the hospital wing.

_That's right. Go brew some midnight potions, or something._

"Good night, Harry." Dumbledore's voice sounded overly cheerful and positive. It was plain to hear that he was putting up a front. Or rather, Harry hoped that he was. He certainly hoped that Dumbledore didn't take pleasure from his situation.

No, he wouldn't.

Finally alone with his thoughts and coherent enough to get them lined up, Harry was struck by an awful realisation.

_They know. They really know! Not only Snape does, but now Dumbledore does as well!_

Somehow, it seemed worse that the kindly older wizard knew of Harry's situation. Snape would assess the situation logically and take away nothing but facts and data. What he did with those was an entirely different question, perhaps, but the truth of the matter was that Harry could count on the man to at least not regard him any differently.

_But Dumbledore…_

Dumbledore cared about Harry. Of that, he was fairly certain. Almost certain. And if he did, surely he would feel bad about this entire situation. Harry could see it in those dejected blue eyes, as well as the sad quiver of his left hand. It had been there, hadn't it?

_Hadn't it?_

Harry drew his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them as best he could without hurting himself too much in the process. He rested his cheek on his knees and stared at the unoccupied chair once more.

Perhaps Dumbledore didn't really care after all. After he had rejected Harry's pleas to stay at Hogwarts after first year, he imagined that was because the man didn't know the full story. Harry hadn't exactly been forthcoming back then or ever since so how could Dumbledore possibly have known.

_He should have known!_

That's right. Albus Dumbledore was supposed to be the most powerful wizard of his age. Even Voldemort feared him. He always knew everything about everyone so how could Harry's situation have slipped past him?! It was ridiculous if you thought about it.

Harry grit his teeth and buried his fists into his blankets, clenching the material as hard as he could as the cloth was stretched taut between his hands, on the verge of ripping apart.

Just like Harry was.

Dumbledore left him there! He left him on the doorstep of a pair of muggles who already had their own son to take care of. They already had a child they loved. How could Dumbledore have ever thought that Harry's intrusion would be welcomed? The entire notion was beyond preposterous! Had there really been no one else?

_Did he even try someone else or did he want to be rid of me?_

It seemed to Harry that with his name, anyone in the wizarding world would have taken him in. They would have liked him for his name at first, sure, but given time, these hypothetical people might even have grown to love him. Unless what the Dursleys had been telling him his entire life was true, of course.

'No one loves a freak.'

The blanket finally ripped from the force it had to endure, stretched in Harry's rage. A bit startled, he dropped the blanket and stared at it. Who was he kidding? If even his own family couldn't love him, no one else would have been able to either.

_I'm a freak._

Even in the wizarding world, he was everything but normal. He was a Parselmouth and a permanent target for Voldemort. He was now a tri-wizard champion and the reason the dark wizard had been resurrected. His scar was the most obvious anomaly. The bounty he received after his mother died for him. A lousy reward that was, if you asked Harry. He would much rather have his mother and father back. Surely, they would have loved him.

_No. No one loves a freak._

Dumbledore didn't care. Why would he? Why should he? There were hundreds of children attending Hogwarts and Harry was but one of them. He probably would have visited any child that wound up in the hospital wing. The only difference? Another child in the same situation would probably be saved. Dumbledore would open his arms and embrace them, telling them it would be alright. Telling them that they were safe now. But not Harry. Never Harry.

Because Harry had a higher purpose. Because Harry was a target. Because Lord Voldemort wanted Harry Potter dead.

And Vernon Dursley? He merely wanted Harry incapacitated. Belittled. Kept small. Not dead, though. Not on purpose, in any case.

In a fit of rage, Harry grabbed one of the armrests of the chair and tossed the wooden contraption roughly across the room, as if it had slighted him in every way possible. It hit another bed with a very loud clattering noise and Harry glared at it as if the racket had been the chair's fault entirely.

Harry felt his eyes prick and pressed his palms against them. He would not cry. He had been through much worse. And really, this shouldn't surprise him in the least. He never expected anyone to take him away from the Dursleys. Not really.

_Then why do I feel so disappointed?_

When no one seemed to come running after Harry had made so much noise, he wondered where Madame Pomfrey was at. He sighed and crawled back underneath the blankets. He was angry because he was in pain. That was all. Tomorrow, everything would look a lot better. Tomorrow, he would be able to smile and brave his troubles with all the courage that was expected of a Gryffindor. Of Harry Potter.

But just for tonight, in the solitude of the hospital wing, he could allow himself a small respite. He hugged his pillow to himself and bit his lip to keep himself from making too much noise.

A teardrop escaped him and moistened the pillow ever so slightly. It was soon followed by others. Harry's shoulders shook as the hopelessness of the situation crushed him.

If only for tonight.

* * *

When Harry next woke, it was no longer dark out. The sun had just begun to rise and was covering the hospital wing in a golden sheen, using the large windows as a gateway. Harry rubbed his eyes and grabbed his glasses. No sounds besides the ones he produced himself could be heard. Harry guessed that it was still fairly early. He sighed and grabbed his wand which was placed next to him on a bedside table.

"Tempus."

It was a little past six. Normally, Petunia would be banging on his door to get started on breakfast right about now. Vernon could not be late for work, after all. Dudley would sleep for a few more hours. Or he would if he wasn't currently staying at St Mungo's.

_Aunt Petunia must be so worried._

Again, Harry couldn't help but feel bad for the woman. When everything was said and done, she had still taken him in, despite really not wanting to. She had kept him safe from the likes of Voldemort and quite honestly, had only had bad experiences with magic since the moment Harry had started becoming... freakish.

Harry looked at his hands, staring as if they were about to sprout mushrooms or something. Or perhaps more likely, would start to ooze with magic.

"Mr Potter," a familiar voice drawled.

Harry looked up without moving his head, managing what he imagined was to be a rather nasty glare. He did not want to speak to his Potions Professor. He didn't even want to see him. Especially not after everything he found out.

"Refrain from glaring at me right this instant," Snape snapped. "Unless you want me to spell your expression into one that is more to my liking."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Please," he replied. "As if Dumbledore would allow that."

_He's allowed for many things, already._

"Must you be this obstinate first thing in the morning?" Snape asked. "You realise that my idea of a perfect summer holiday does not include you in any shape or form."

"The sentiment is entirely mutual," Harry replied calmly even though he was fuming on the inside.

Snape's lips receded into a thin line as his eyes narrowed at the boy sitting seemingly casual on the hospital bed. Harry did his very best to look as if he didn't care one bit about what Snape might think of him but that look of loathing and disgust was really pushing Harry's mental limitations.

But Snape didn't say anything scathing in return. Nor did he violently advance on Harry like Vernon or Dudley would do.

Instead, he asked a question that might have seemed insulting but was voiced with an even tone that, for Snape, seemed almost friendly. "Why do you feel the need to provoke people so much?"

Harry groaned inwardly. _So you've noticed as well?_

But he didn't say that. Instead, he quirked an eyebrow in a bad imitation of the man standing before him and smirked. "I'm sure you can think up a sufficiently unflattering reason yourself," he said in a tone of voice that could be used to describe the weather.

Snape's upper lip curled and Harry was reminded of the fangs of a vicious wolf he had seen at the zoo, once. Unwilling to be intimidated, Harry sat up a bit straighter and challenged Snape with another glare.

"As insufferable as you might be, Potter, I am not willing to discuss that with you at this moment," Snape then said. He withdrew a few potions from his inner pocket that just had to have been magically expanded and placed them unceremoniously on Harry's bedside table.

"Take these," he said sternly.

The man crossed his arms and fixed Harry with a rather piercing glare. For a moment, Harry was seriously considering disobeying if only to see what reaction he might provoke. After all, Snape seemed surprisingly subdued for now. With the things Harry had said so far he surely would have expected some sort of reprimand. Something worse than snarky comebacks. Sure, he couldn't exactly take points right now but, Merlin, the man hadn't even raised his voice yet.

But Harry reconsidered. As fun as antagonising Snape might seem at this moment, he would be sure to regret it later. So he picked up one of the potions and struggled a bit to uncork it. Snape just watched him, his expression neutral and his posture stoic. Harry felt a little bit like a fish in a fish tank but refused to show that he was uncomfortable with Snape's scrutiny.

Eventually, he managed to uncork and drink all potions, not even stopping to wonder what they all did. It soon became clear that one of them was a pain reliever, though Harry was determined not to show Snape the relief he felt after he downed it. The man smirked nonetheless and Harry glared again. That man was able to read people like an open book. It was hardly fair.

_Why is he lingering?_

Sure enough, Snape made no move to leave, even after the potions were gone. He didn't speak either. He just stood there, looking at Harry. But the malice and disgust in his eyes was less than it usually would be. It wasn't gone at all, but it was less obvious.

"Can I help you?" Harry finally asked a bit rudely.

"Since our little subterfuge is over, you will address me as _sir_ or _professor_ once more, Potter," Snape drawled.

"School isn't even in session," Harry protested defiantly.

"Nevertheless, you shall treat me with the respect I deserve," Snape pressed.

Harry scoffed but didn't reply anymore. Instead, he made a show of straightening his blanket, wincing slightly when he was reminded of the tear he made.

"As careless with school property as ever, are you?" Snape asked slyly.

"It was an accident," Harry grumbled in protest. He expected Snape to argue with him but was surprised when the man drew his wand and cast a quick _reparo, _instead. He was even more surprised when Snape walked over to the chair that Harry had carelessly thrown across the room, and without so much as an accusatory glance, put it back in its rightful place, taking a seat as he did. He then steepled his fingers and leaned forward, fixing Harry with a piercing glare.

"Potter," he then said. "Don't you desire to leave the despicable environment those muggles provide you with?"

Harry was taken aback by the overtly direct question but quickly recovered. "It doesn't matter," he replied, adding a _sir_ when Snape raised a sardonic eyebrow.

"I asked what _you_ desire," Snape said more plainly.

Harry huffed in frustration. "It's not possible, sir," he replied, feeling exasperated that Snape wouldn't get it through his thick skull. "There are reasons why I can't leave."

"Do you wish to leave, though?" Snape asked again, his tone ridiculously patient.

Harry glared at Snape but the effort was half-hearted at best. He swallowed thickly when he felt his chest constrict somewhat and clenched his fists underneath the blanket, where Snape wouldn't be able to see. "I. Can't," he said, enunciating his words clearly.

Snape sighed and leaned back, pinching the bridge of his nose as if he were trying to stave off a headache and not succeeding.

"Potter," he then tried again, much to Harry's consternation. "Judging by the abysmal essays you occasionally choose to fling on my desk, I can see that the details of the English language are sometimes difficult for you to grasp."

_You absolute git!_

"Let me make it clear to you that I am not asking you about the possibilities here. Nor do I expect you to come up with solutions to problems that you, quite frankly, have no idea exist. The question I pose you is a simple one. One that can be answered with a simple 'yes' or 'no'."

Snape ran a hand through his greasy hair and it struck Harry that he seemed exhausted. Had the man even slept last night? A glance at the empty potion vials on the table had Harry frowning. Just how freshly-made were those potions?

"I will ask you one more time, and I expect you to give me a satisfactory reply," Snape continued, his cold eyes sending a warning that Harry fully understood. "Do you wish to leave your relatives?"

Harry grit his teeth in an effort not to let his anger get the best of him. But when Snape kept looking at him, expecting an answer, one he already should full-well know, he broke.

"Of course I do!" He yelled. "Do you think I _enjoy_ being beaten up every which way to Sunday? Well, I don't! I don't particularly care to be left at the mercy of my uncle, especially now that they are aware of what happened to Dudley, but there's nothing I can do! Happy?!"

Harry was breathing heavily after his outburst and clenched his jaw to stop himself from saying more.

He met Snape's gaze briefly, to check just how much the man was gloating. But he wasn't. There was no smirk, no obvious mirth and no mocking sneer. Snape's lips had formed a thin line that could rival even McGonagall's most sour expression and the look in his eyes was one of determination.

"No," he finally responded evenly. "I am most decidedly not happy."

Harry didn't know what to say to that, so he just started plucking at some invisible lint on his bedding.

"You should tell the Headmaster," Snape then spoke. "By simply rolling over, and saying that you understand his position, you're not exactly making it clear that you wish to leave. Yes, he's probably aware that you do but if you express your desires plainly –"

"I already did," Harry interrupted coldly. "It didn't matter in first year so I don't see how it would matter now."

A low, growling sound escaped Snape. It sounded so unnatural that Harry almost chuckled. He probably would have if it weren't for this mortifying situation.

"Are you telling me," Snape said, sounding absolutely enraged, "that the headmaster was aware of your situation?"

Harry looked up, surprise colouring his gaze. He tilted his head slightly to the side as he regarded Snape. "Of course," he then said, as if that were obvious all along. "My Hogwarts letter was addressed to the cupboard under the stairs, you know?" Harry then groaned when he realised what he had said. Sure, Snape might have seen this one beating and temporarily rescued him from what was probably a bad situation, but that didn't mean he should just go ahead and spill all of his secrets.

"Also," he continued in the hopes that Snape would ignore his slip up. "At the end of first year, I asked Dumbledore if I could stay at Hogwarts instead of going back. But, well, you know the result."

"Did you tell the headmaster _why_ you wished to stay here?" Snape asked, his voice still dangerously low.

Harry shrugged. "I told him they don't like me very much," he replied quietly. "My relatives, I mean."

Snape cleared his throat and Harry got the odd feeling that the man felt decidedly uncomfortable. Well, that made two of them. "If it were up to me, you would not be required to go back there, Potter. Ever," Snape said. His tone of voice was completely sincere and Harry couldn't help but smile at that.

"Thank you, sir," he replied. "But unfortunately, it is not. And for whatever reason that I am yet to be explained, I have to go back."

"We'll see about that," Snape growled. He brusquely got up from his seat and narrowed his eyes at the gravely injured boy. "Since my healing skills are not exactly up to par with those of Madame Pomfrey, I expect you to remain here for at least another week," he said in a very business-like tone.

_So Madame Pomfrey really isn't here._

"I will convey your feelings to the headmaster and urge you to do the same. Don't be roundabout about it either. Just tell him directly that you don't, under any circumstances, wish to go back."

"But –"

"_If_ you do this, Potter," Snape continued as if he wasn't interrupted. "And he still sends you back, despite your pleas, I assure you that I will find a way to have those muggles keep their hands to themselves. If need be, I will take up lodging in your home as well. But this time, I will be myself."

Harry's eyes couldn't possibly grow wider as he took in his Potions Professor's earnest offer. "But sir," he said after he got over his astonishment. "You hate me. Why would you do that?"

"My reasons are my own, Potter," Snape snarled. "And you would do well to not tug at a gift broom's bristles."

"Yes, sir," Harry said, momentarily placated.

Snape nodded sharply and turned on his heel, ready to make a sweeping exit. But right before he crossed the threshold, he paused and released a long-suffering sigh.

"I don't hate you, Potter," he said. "I may not fawn over you as your fan club would, but I never hated you."

Before Harry could reply to that, the Potions Master stalked off in a swirl of robes, leaving him absolutely dumbfounded.

_Polyjuice_?

Harry snickered to himself, despite the heavy circumstances weighing down on his heart. Just the idea of Snape sitting down with the Dursleys at breakfast, asking Vernon to pass the salt made him giddy.

_I wonder how he likes his eggs?_

* * *

_There you are. I wonder how you all feel about this chapter. Don't forget to leave me a review, please. It works wonders for my motivation. I will try to keep up the double updates for now but I make no promises. See this as a trial run of sorts. Expect the next chapter on Friday, in any case._


	8. Chapter 8

_Thank you all so much for your amazing reviews. I hope this next chapter does not dissapoint._

* * *

**Chapter 8**

Later that same day at a much less ungodly hour, Dumbledore strolled into the hospital wing. Truth be told, Harry had been rather bored for the past hours. He had been able to sleep some of the time away but one couldn't do that all day long. Besides, if Harry was going to sleep the entire day, he would not be able to go to sleep during the night. And it was at night that the darkest kind of thoughts started swirling in his head.

Despite being bored out of his mind, Harry was very reluctant to speak with Dumbledore. He didn't want to ask the man to stay here. Not again. But while he didn't exactly promise Snape to pose this rather difficult question, he knew very well that the man expected it of him. Not only that but if he did, Snape would do his best to help him. Or so the man had said. It still seemed very unlikely to Harry that the Potions Master cared one bit about Harry's pitiful home life but it was a flicker of hope nonetheless.

But hope was dangerous. Harry managed to get through his horrible summers because he knew that things were as they were supposed to be. He learned to roll with the punches. But if he actually dared to hope that things could become better, even marginally so, the blow would be utterly devastating when this hope was shattered.

He was reluctant to hope but couldn't stop it. And so, he bravely met Dumbledore's gaze as the powerful wizard moved towards the chair next to Harry's bed. His movements were slow and deliberate as if he were approaching a frightened animal. Somehow, Harry took offence to that but made no comment. After all, it would not do to antagonise the man you wanted to ask a favour of.

"Gooday, Harry," Dumbledore greeted merrily. His smile didn't reach his eyes, though, Harry noticed.

"Hello, Professor," Harry greeted back. "How are you?"

Dumbledore chuckled wryly. "How kind of you to ask, dear boy," he replied, something akin to sadness brimming in his eyes. "I am well, thank you very much. Though I am sorry for what happened to you."

_Not sorry enough to get me out of there._

Dumbledore sat down and leaned back comfortably, his calculating eyes resting on Harry. "How are you feeling today?"

"Better," Harry admitted. "I'm still somewhat sore but the potions are helping with that."

Dumbledore nodded knowingly. "Professor Snape has done his best to provide you with fresh batches of everything you need," he explained. "They should be as potent as they can be. I am pleased to hear that they are helping."

Harry couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt for monopolising Snape's time like that. Especially since he knew that Snape did not like spending his summers thinking about him in the slightest. There was no doubt in his mind that Dumbledore had requested the man to brew everything from scratch.

"That was not necessary," Harry protested weakly. "I'm sure that whatever you had in stock would have been just fine."

"Yes, I would presume so as well," Dumbledore said kindly, his eyes twinkling ever so slightly from behind his half-moon spectacles. "Even his work for the order has been put on hold for a while. It's gratifying to know that our beloved Potions Master is not as cold of heart as many thought him to be."

Harry frowned. "The order?" he asked. Dumbledore's eyes gleamed as if he had wanted Harry to ask that.

"It saddens me that I have not yet been able to tell you this, Harry," Dumbledore said. "But with things being as they are, I feel the need to explain why your friends have been pre-occupied this summer."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"Ah," Dumbledore said. "They have been very busy at the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. A group that was created for the sole purpose of fighting Voldemort."

"Really?" Harry said evenly. "That sounds like the kind of place where I should be, doesn't it?"

Dumbledore sighed. "Not quite yet, my boy," he said. "This is exactly why I didn't want to tell you just yet." Dumbledore folded his hands in his lap as he regarded the wounded boy in front of him tenderly. "Your nature compels you to provide your help no matter the circumstances," he said. "And yet, I need you to lay low for now."

"But I need to know what Voldemort's up to!" Harry exclaimed.

"Unfortunately, there isn't very much to know as of yet, my boy," Dumbledore replied. "You should know that Severus is doing his very best to come across the necessary information but Voldemort has been very quiet of late. For now, all we can do is wait."

Harry didn't know what to make of that and decided to just avert his gaze. Broaching this subject was really hard.

"Speaking of Severus," Dumbledore continued when Harry made no attempt to speak. "He has told me that you wish to ask me something."

Harry was taken aback enough to stare at Dumbledore with eyes widened in shock. That certainly made it easier for him. But to think that Snape cared enough to push Dumbledore in his direction like that. This morning seemed like a far-off dream, no doubt because Snape had come in when Harry was still somewhat groggy.

But now…

_He probably just wants me to make a fool of myself._

Harry sighed as he started wringing the blanket between his hands again, careful not to rip it this time. Dumbledore seemed to notice because he put a soothing hand on Harry's fervent ones. It took everything to keep himself from flinching away from the man's touch. The Dursley's treatment was still far too fresh in his mind.

"It's alright, Harry," Dumbledore said kindly.

_But it's not._

"You can ask me anything."

_But I can't._

"Just tell me what's on your mind."

Harry took a deep breath to try and still his turbulent thoughts. There was no harm in asking, was there? All he needed to do was not get his hopes up. He needed to ask his question, knowing full well what the answer would be. If he expected the worst, he could not be disappointed, after all. Right?

_Best get this over with in one go. Like ripping off a band-aid._

"Can I please stay at Hogwarts for the remainder of summer?" Harry asked, doing his best to look Dumbledore in the eye. "I think everyone would be happier if I did."

For a moment, Dumbledore just stared. The seconds ticked by at an excruciatingly slow pace and Harry couldn't help but feel bad when all the remainder of Dumbledore's merry twinkle disappeared. Eventually, the man released a long-suffering sigh and Harry felt his heart clench painfully.

"Harry," Dumbledore said carefully. "You know that's not an option. I thought you understood?"

"I don't," Harry retorted, amazed with himself that he didn't just go along with Dumbledore's reply. "I know that Privet Drive is protected in some way but wouldn't I be a lot safer at Hogwarts, anyway?"

"You would not be," Dumbledore replied calmly.

_Well, that explains a whole lot._

"What do you mean?" Harry asked for good measure.

"You have to understand that the wards surrounding your home are put in place in no small part because of your mother's sacrifice," Dumbledore explained. "These _blood_ wards are the most powerful wards known to wizardkind. Not even the fidelius wards are a match to their power."

Dumbledore sighed again and put a hand on Harry's shoulder in an attempt for comfort. "When it comes to your situation specifically, it truly is much safer for you to remain with your relatives rather than at Hogwarts."

Harry frowned as he thought that over. "Do I really have to stay all summer, though?" he asked. "Since you don't make me go back for Christmas, that doesn't seem right."

"The longer you stay, the more powerful the wards," Dumbledore explained patiently. "Furthermore, it is of the utmost importance that you keep considering your home just that."

"I haven't considered that place my home in years," Harry muttered.

Dumbledore nodded sadly. "I know that you believe that," he agreed. "But seeing how the wards are still firmly in place, I know that some part of you still does."

And wasn't that just the awful truth? While he told his friends that he considered Hogwarts to be his real home, how could that be true? After all, he had no family here. He had a few close friends, sure. But he had no father, mother or siblings. Not a single person at this school was truly his. There were only vague reminders of the marauders and trophies depicting James' Quidditch glory days.

Petunia and Vernon were not the parental sorts in the least. Not to Harry. But they were the closest thing he had. And while he had all but condemned the idea of hope to the furthest reaches of his mind, an inkling of it still insisted that one day his relatives might come to love him after all. If he was good enough. If he listened. If he obeyed. He wasn't ready to give up the idea that the uninspired house on privet drive was his home. He couldn't.

"I see," he finally replied sullenly, aware of the fact that too much time had passed in silence.

"Harry," Dumbledore said sadly. "I know that this is hard but I assure you that I have no intention of allowing your relatives to mistreat you like that again. I have already conversed with your aunt and uncle about the way they behaved and am certain that they will abstain from such behaviour again."

Harry snorted. He didn't believe that for one second.

Dumbledore removed his hand and rose from his chair. "I know you to be a strong young man, Harry," Dumbledore said confidently. "And I assure you that this is the lesser of two evils. I simply cannot hope to keep you safe from Voldemort here at Hogwarts. Sadly, the previous years are a clear indication of that."

Harry didn't reply. He didn't even look at Dumbledore again. The man's mind was made up and he knew it. _Hell_, he had known that in advance.

"I'll come visit you again tomorrow," Dumbledore said. "Until then, I brought you a couple of books from the library. I'll leave them on the table for you, alright?" Harry nodded but didn't look up until the receding sound of footsteps signalled Dumbledore's departure. He stared at the door as it fell shut, listening to his own breathing as he was left alone once more.

He hadn't fostered any hope. He had known full well that Dumbledore would say no. He even got some extra information for his trouble. Things he hadn't know yet. That had to count for something, right?

Before Harry full well realised what he was doing, he grabbed one of the empty potion vials and flung it across the room, watching as it shattered against the door with a satisfying sound. Harry grabbed his pillow, buried his face into it and screamed.

Hope was a horribly painful thing indeed.

* * *

When next someone entered the hospital wing, Harry didn't even move. He had just finished eating his dinner and was now lying flat on his belly, one arm underneath his pillow and the other one hanging limply off the side of the bed. He had almost fallen asleep and was in no mood to entertain whoever it was that had come to disturb him. So he kept his eyes shut, careful not to clench them and was mindful of his breathing.

The sound of footsteps approached his bed and then stopped. Harry became aware that someone was staring at him, bringing him back from what would have been a sweet slumber.

_Just go away_, he thought desperately.

"Mr Potter, I do know that you're awake, you realise," sounded Snape's snappish voice.

Harry did nothing but groan in reply.

"Are you in pain?" Snape asked evenly. Really would it kill the man to show some concern?

"No more so than this morning," Harry mumbled. He still refused to sit up. Let Snape talk to the back of his head for all he cared.

A few more footsteps, towards the door this time and a muttered oath. "Is there any reason in particular why you decided to throw my empty potion vials?" Snape asked darkly.

Harry flushed a bit at the wording and decided that the polite thing to do would be to sit up and face the man after all. Especially after smashing his belongings. He looked up just in time to see Snape repair the vial with a swish of his wand, pocketing it instantly.

"I'm sorry," Harry said. "I was a bit… upset."

"That does not give you leave to start throwing things," Snape was quick to reply. "Especially not things that shatter on impact. You are fifteen, not five."

"I said I was sorry!" Harry exclaimed. "Since I so obviously annoy you, you're free to leave, you know?"

"I cannot do so until I've examined you, Potter," Snape said easily, fixing Harry with a cold stare.

Harry groaned. "I'm fine," he said.

"You'll forgive me if I don't take the word of a moody teenager for it," Snape replied sardonically. "Lay still."

Snape pointed his wand at Harry, causing him to freeze. Snape didn't seem to care. He moved his wand in a complex pattern before resting it on top of Harry's head. Out of nowhere, a piece of parchment appeared. Snape snatched it out of thin air, his eyes moving to take in the neat writing.

Harry, who was never too keen on silences, couldn't help but talk after a few minutes of Snape immersing himself in the medical diagnosis.

"I asked him," he said, hoping that Snape would know enough. The man nodded, without looking away from the parchment. It signified that he was listening, though and that was enough to prompt the next sentence.

"He said no," Harry continued sullenly. "Something to do with blood wards."

"I see," Snape replied. Harry thought there was a smidgen of anger present in the man's voice but that could just as well be Harry trying to fool himself that someone cared. Someone that had seen his situation.

"You will need to take a nerve restorative draught, it would seem," Snape then said. "A nutritive potion would not be amiss either but that doesn't mix well with blood replenisher potion so that will have to wait for a few more days. How is your balance?"

Harry grit his teeth, upset that he was being ignored. He had suspected something else from Snape. But what, he wasn't entirely sure of.

"Potter, answer the question," Snape urged coldly.

"My balance is fine, sir," Harry replied.

"No dizziness? Shortness of breath?"

"No and no," Harry said curtly.

Snape made a notation on the diagnostic parchment and caused it to vanish with a wave of his wand.

"Anything else that you wish to inform me of?" Snape then asked. "I will not appreciate you leaving anything out, mind you."

Now, Harry was thoroughly chagrined. He crossed his arms and glared at the Potions Master even as he conjured a couple of potions and placed them on Harry's bedside table.

"No," he replied.

"No, _sir_," Snape corrected.

_Whatever._

"I do not appreciate your attitude, Potter," Snape snarled, clearly seeing the defiance on Harry's face.

"Duly noted," Harry muttered. Snape stared at him darkly for a while before apparently deciding to let Harry's insolence slide. Out of nowhere, he veered the conversation into a direction Harry had most definitely not seen coming.

"I bring news of your cousin," he said matter-of-factly while clearing the empty vials that still stood on Harry's table.

Harry gulped down his surprise before he spoke. "Is that right?"

"It is," Snape replied easily. "He is to be released to go home soon."

"That's good news, I suppose," Harry replied, fidgeting with his blankets again. If Dudley was able to go home, his relatives might not be too incensed with what he had done to him. Not if they saw that Dudley was healthy again. He would still be punished severely, sure but Vernon might not beat him senseless again.

Snape nodded. "He still requires some additional care. Potions and low-level spells, I was told. Until he's entirely himself again."

Harry frowned. "Does that mean some mediwitch will stop by on occasion?" he asked. "I don't think the Dursleys will like that very much."

"If their son's health is at stake, I'm rather certain that they will not decline outside interference," Snape replied. "If what I saw while at that house was any indication."

Harry snorted. "I take it you didn't like being coddled, sir?" Harry asked. That had been a bad idea. Snape looked at him darkly, tapping his fingers into the folds of his crossed arms.

"Mind your tongue," he growled. "I do not wish to recollect any of their nonsense at present."

"Yes, sir," Harry replied. "So, what will happen now?"

"That's really rather simple," Snape said. Harry didn't like the man standing there, looming over him. He just wished the man would take a seat already rather than looking as if he was about to deduct points from Gryffindor. Of course, he didn't say as much.

"Your cousin is still in need of magical assistance but it is rather busy at St Mungo's at the moment." Snape looked meaningfully at Harry, a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. "It would appear that the good staff of the hospital did not take too kindly to your cousin's anti-magic sentiments. None of them desire to visit him at his home and encounter the people who raised him to become that way."

Harry frowned again. "That's not really nice," he said. "Dudley may not be the friendliest person around but he deserves medical care as well. Don't magical healers need to take an oath or something?"

"Do they?" Snape asked sardonically. Harry got a distinct feeling that Snape was trying to make a point. Attempting to have Harry see something but whatever it was, Harry didn't get it.

"I don't know," Harry said, shrugging and wincing slightly when he did. "Can you get to the point, sir? Because I really don't know what you're getting at."

Snape sighed in exasperation. "Do you recall our earlier conversation, Mr Potter?"

"Of course," Harry replied. "If not, I wouldn't have talked to Dumbledore."

Snape nodded, his piercing eyes radiating ice. "I expect you did so because you would hope that I uphold my end of the bargain."

Harry gulped. "Well," he said, suddenly feeling very small, "I know what you said but you also told me that you didn't exactly want to have much to do with me during the summer, so…"

Snape tilted his head ever so slightly, taking in Harry with a hint of curiosity. "Does that matter?" he said. "Surely, you would expect my interference."

Harry chuckled wryly. "Why? Because I'm _Harry Potter_?" he asked, correctly guessing Snape's thoughts if the man's sudden scowl was any indication. "Don't worry, Professor. I know what it's like to be forgotten."

"Yes," Snape agreed after a moment's hesitation. "I would imagine you do. I assure you do that I firmly believe in the phrase 'a promise given is a promise kept' if that clears things up."

"You didn't promise me anything, though," Harry pointed out.

"Potter," Snape all but spat. "What are you attempting to do? Would you rather I left you to your abusive home situation on account of semantics?"

"Of course not!" Harry exclaimed. "I just don't want to be…" he trailed off, not wanting to say the rest.

_A bother._

Snape's expression seemed to soften ever so slightly before hardening right back into one of steely resolve. He finally seemed to be sick of standing and gracefully sank into the chair next to Harry. The boy shifted back a few inches, not even aware that he was doing so and looked at his professor.

"The situation is as follows," Snape then said, his tone the same one he used when he was teaching. It did nothing to put Harry at ease.

"Your cousin is in need of magical assistance. Since professor Dumbledore deems it unnecessary to remove his golden boy from the less-than-adequate care of his relatives, I see no other option than to take on the role of substitute mediwizard myself."

Harry realised that his mouth had fallen open and closed it with a click.

"But sir," he protested, "You're not a mediwizard."

"Indeed I am not," Snape replied, raising one distinctive eyebrow. "But I have enough knowledge in the medical field to be allowed a role this… insignificant."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Insignificant?" he asked. "Wait a moment. Does Dudley really even need any more magic?"

Snape smirked ever so slightly. "He might," he replied. "Or he might not. I doubt it's a risk that Petunia would take."

_Tuney._

For some reason, until now, Harry had all but forgotten about the familiarity that had been evident between Snape and his aunt. But now the memory came crashing back and it was very disconcerting, to say the least. The magical and muggle world were not supposed to mix in Harry's mind. That made this situation all the more troublesome indeed.

But that thought, however urgent, was not strong enough to dispel the words Snape had just said. Harry had to pick his battles, he knew. And at this moment, he wanted clarification about the present rather than the past.

"So _you're_ going to come over?" Harry asked hopefully. "To check on my cousin?"

"You misunderstand," Snape replied slyly. "I have no intention of sporadically coming over. No, I think that your cousin still has the chance to _relapse_ during any moment of the day. If this happens while I'm not present, he might never return to his normal self again."

"That doesn't sound right," Harry said, frowning again.

"Of course it doesn't, you difficult child," Snape said harshly. "That's because it's utter nonsense. Your relatives, however, have no way of knowing or even verifying this. They will be sure to allow me entry into their home with no trouble whatsoever if it means keeping their son out of harm's way."

"So you were actually serious before?" Harry asked. "About staying over, I mean."

"I certainly did not state so in jest," Snape replied, shaking his head. "And I expect you must be out of it more than you let on if you believe me capable of such things in the first place."

Harry couldn't help it. He chuckled. "My bad," he said. "I don't know what I was thinking."

Snape's features twisted in what might have resembled the beginning of a smile but before Harry could be certain, it disappeared again, Snape's much too serious gaze now locking onto Harry once more.

"There may be external reasons for you to remain with those muggles but rest assured that I will not allow anything untoward to happen again," Snape said seriously. "As long as I remain in that house, you will be safe. You have my word."

Harry didn't know what to say to that. And even if he did, he wasn't sure that his throat would allow him to. Different emotions seemed to be at war within his mind, struggling to break free. On the one hand, he was happy that someone would try and keep him safe at the Dursleys, even if he still needed to go back. On the other hand, though, this was Snape. The sardonic, greasy, foul Potions Master that never spared his sharp tongue, using it to cut most Gryffindors, and Harry in particular, to ribbons.

And while he might have been quite decent recently, Harry could not push past the resentment he still felt for the man. After all, caring for someone who was in the state Snape had found him in was the bare minimum to be considered decent, was it not? And brewing potions for Hogwarts and the order was his job.

_Staying at your house and defying Dumbledore for your sake certainly isn't._

Harry ignored the little voice inside his head and tilted his chin to appear more confident than he felt at that moment.

"And what will you do with the information you gather while you stay at my home?" he asked. Surely, the man would have no problem telling his Slytherin students just what went on in the house. Maybe he would even discuss his life in gruelling detail with the likes of Filch.

Snape regarded him carefully, placing his folded hands in his laps as he seemed to consider the question for a while.

"Well?" Harry asked shortly.

"I cannot imagine that I would learn anything of import, Mr Potter," Snape replied icily. "If you are talking about the matter of the abuse –"

"Stop calling it that!" Harry suddenly shouted. He hated that word and was sick of Snape saying it. He was not abused. Because that would make him weak. And he couldn't be weak. His life did not allow for such luxuries.

"Don't interrupt me," Snape said, his tone dangerous. When Harry glared at him but kept his mouth shut nonetheless, Snape seemed satisfied.

"As I was saying," he continued. "The matter of your unfortunate situation is not one that should be shared with any of my colleagues, light or dark."

Harry swallowed thickly. He hadn't even considered the death eaters. It was a good thing Snape was on their side if one believed such things. Harry did, he thought. Probably.

"And your Slytherins?" Harry dared prompt.

Snape hissed between his teeth before replying. "Leave it to you to worry about your fellow students rather than the Dark Lord," he spat. "Of course they won't hear a word of what transpired at your house, you blundering fool. Frankly, I am astounded that you would think me capable of such banal gossip, even with our past as difficult as it is."

Harry immediately felt shame colour his cheeks. Okay, so maybe that particular fear had not been well-founded.

"Sorry," Harry mumbled.

"It's of no matter," Snape admitted. "I suppose those particular worries are only to be expected from any adolescent such as yourself."

That must have been the most understanding Snape had ever been and Harry couldn't help but stare a bit.

"You appear weary, Mr Potter," Snape then said. "I suggest that you rest. Unfortunately, you will be leaving this place soon enough. Therefore you should remain horizontal for as long as you possibly can. And that means no midnight escapades or gallivanting around the castle."

Harry snorted. "I'm not in the mood for any of those things, right now," he said truthfully.

"See to it that your _mood_ remains as such," Snape said silkily. "Drink your potions. I will be back to check on you tomorrow."

"Yes sir," Harry replied dutifully.

Snape nodded one more time and left in a flurry of robes as Harry sank back into his pillow.

_Gallivanting around the castle. Who talks like that?_

Harry snickered to himself, uncorking his potions and downing them as instructed. This summer was turning out to be even stranger then he had anticipated.

* * *

_And there you have it, folks. I have two more chapters all ready so I can definitely update again on Tuesday. Please let me know what you think! _


	9. Chapter 9

_You guys rock, do you know that? Thank you all so much for your reviews and for your input. Also a heartfelt thanks to the guests and those who don't accept PM's. I can't reply to you but know that I appreciate your words a lot._

_so, of course I needed to update today. I hope you'll enjoy this chapter. So it begins..._

* * *

**Chapter 9**

_Harry was strolling through a thick forest. He was barefoot but this didn't hinder his movement in the slightest. He proceeded with confidence and jubilation as he eyed the surrounding area with gleeful consideration. _

_The sharp crack of apparition behind him didn't startle him in the slightest. Instead, he smirked. He turned around and looked down at the cowering, trembling form of Wormtail. The doddering fool was one of his most loyal followers. His main motivation might be fear but Harry didn't see anything wrong with that. Fear was a powerful motivator. It pleased him._

"_Rise," Harry said, his voice sounding low, hissing the syllables. From the corner of his eyes, he could see a large snake slithering behind Wormtail, ready to strike if the need should arise, however unlikely that was._

"_My lord," Wormtail uttered with disgusting sliminess. Harry looked on, his face impassive. He raised his wand ever so slightly, collecting a wild flinch from Wormtail with the movement._

"_Please, my lord," the revolting little man begged. "I have done as you asked."_

"_What did you discover?" Harry asked evenly._

_Wormtail procured a large, old tome from within his cloak and extended it with trembling hands, his silver one shining in the moonlight. "I found this," he said, speaking softly. His eyes were darting around as if expecting to be attacked at any moment. Harry smiled. What a fool, Wormtail was. Didn't he realise that the most dangerous creature in this forest was his master himself?_

_Harry accepted the tome and looked at the mouldy cover. 'Vas Ort Ylem', read the title. Simple in and of itself, but everything that Harry wanted at that moment._

"_Well done, Wormtail," he purred. "You have pleased me tonight."_

_It was amusing to see the man gasp with excitement and a hint of pride. Yes, he was happy to have pleased his master. Harry would leave him alone that night. After all, rewarding good behaviour was as important as punishing the mistakes of those who would follow behind him._

"_Begin the preparations," Harry said coldly. In the distance, he could hear the whinnying of thestrals. There was a rustle in the trees somewhere when a small herd of them suddenly rose from the thick arboreal canopy and flew away. Their shapes covered the full moon with a beautifully eerie silhouette before they disappeared into the night. Harry smirked. This place would be perfect._

"_Shall I speak with –"_

"_Wormtail," Harry interrupted, irritation in his voice. "You know the plan. Proceed as discussed at once if you don't want me to lose my good mood."_

"_At once, My lord," Wormtail replied, his voice a quivering mess. He bowed deeply one last time before apparating away and back to Britain._

_Harry laughed darkly as Nagini slithered close to him. Effortlessly, he slipped into Parseltongue as he addressed his pet. "Ssssoon, Nagini," he hissed almost lovingly. "The wheelsss are turning in my favour."_

"_Masssster?"_

_Harry shook his head. "You will ssssee," he hissed. "They will all ssssee. Thisss isss the year that Harry Potter will be dealt with onccce and for all. Whether he ssstandsss with me, or not."_

With a painfully sharp jolt in his scar, Harry awoke from what was a very deep sleep. His hands flew to his forehead in an instant as he inhaled sharply. His body trembled in agony and he noticed that he was biting his lip, a few drops of blood emerging from where his teeth punctured the soft flesh.

_What the hell?_

With a trembling hand, Harry grabbed his wand and cast a quick Lumos, thankful that the ministry could not track his magic while he was at Hogwarts. The light illuminated the paleness of his skin and Harry gasped again when he saw that his palm was covered in blood. Only then did he become aware of the soft, trickling feeling of moisture on his forehead.

_No, no, no, no, NO!_

Harry didn't understand. This was clearly no normal nightmare. He saw Voldemort! No, he _was_ Voldemort. He had felt happy. Excited. He was looking forward to something. But what?

Still trembling, Harry swung his legs from underneath his blanket, relishing the chilly night air that was helping him wake up. He felt the need to splash cold water in his face, so he got out of bed and hurried to the bathroom. With shaky hands, he cupped some of the water that came out of the faucet and splashed it, attempting to wake himself from the horrid nightmare. Water mixed with the blood that was still dripping slowly from his scar, giving the residue water a pinkish tint.

Harry stared at it for a few seconds before lifting his gaze to look in the mirror.

He was met with a pair of red eyes.

Yelping loudly in surprise, Harry stumbled backwards. The red eyes were gone so fast that Harry wondered if he had imagined it. All that was looking back at him now were frightened pools of green. And yet, he was aware of the lingering feeling of contempt and enjoyment from somewhere deep within him.

_Oh, Merlin._

Harry's stomach churned awfully and he quickly turned around and stumbled to his knees in front of the toilet, quickly expelling the contents of his stomach into the porcelain bowl. Somewhere in the distance, the door leading into the hospital wing was flung open, the sound of it reverberating off the walls only barely registering in Harry's mind.

He retched again, cursing his weakened state in his mind. A few drops of blood splashed on top of the toilet seat as they leaked sluggishly from his scar.

"Potter?!"

_Oh great, Snape's back._

The man had been in and out the hospital wing for the past week, tending to Harry's injuries in a curt and efficient manner. Harry imagined that there was some monitoring charm on him because Snape had appeared every time he was starting to be in too much pain. That was probably what summoned the man here now as well.

Realising that it would not look good that Harry was missing from his bed, blood probably staining his pillow, he opened his mouth to shout out his whereabouts, only to retch up more of his food instead. But noise was noise and it was enough to summon the Potion Master to his side.

The door to the small bathroom swung open – Harry didn't even remember closing it – to reveal a distressed-looking Snape. If Harry hadn't felt so awful, he might have laughed at the dishevelled state the man had shown up in. But Harry didn't even have the energy to smile. Instead, he looked up at Snape, imagining himself to seem absolutely pitiful, all sprawled out on the floor, leaning heavily on the toilet. His face was probably a disgusting mess.

Snape raised his illuminated wand for a moment, his eyes scouring the small bathroom with practised acuity before focusing on Harry again.

"What has happened?" he asked. He seemed calm but his voice betrayed just how disturbed he was.

Harry wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and looked at Snape, desperation in his eyes. "V-Voldemort," he stammered.

Snape hissed and took a few steps closer, kneeling next to Harry as the boy retched yet again. Swiftly, he produced a vial from somewhere and thrust it in Harry's direction. "It's a stomach calming draught," he explained smoothly. "Take it so I can see to your scar without interruption."

Harry was too tired to respond with a sarcastic remark of his own, or distrust the motivations of the man in any way. Stopping the forceful expulsion of his stomach-contents seemed like a fantastic idea at the moment.

_If it's poison, at least I won't feel like crap much longer._

But it wasn't. Harry downed the potion and waited for a few minutes until the queasiness died down. Snape remained next to him in a hunched position that had him at the ready, probably in case something else happened. But then, Harry felt better and slowly rose from the cold ground, Snape rising with him.

"Can you get back to your bed by yourself?" Snape asked. His voice was cold and it was clear that even though he would offer his assistance if necessary, he would not like it very much.

Harry flushed. Now that the dreadful feeling of nausea was gone, he felt a bit silly having been found on the cold bathroom floor, though the feeling of dread still hadn't left him. "Yes, sir," he finally replied.

Snape nodded and stepped aside to allow Harry some space but remained close behind the boy as he made his way back to the bed he had occupied. It was unnecessary and made Harry feel as if Snape thought he was weak and needed his protection. On the other hand, it made him feel just a bit safer as well.

Harry made it back to his bed without needing help and sat down on the edge of it. Snape moved the chair to sit in front of him and waved his wand to spell on all the lights. Harry squinted a bit at the sudden influx of illumination.

"A warning would have been nice," he muttered tiredly. The lights only made his head throb harder.

Harry startled slightly when a hand touched his forehead very lightly. "I need to see what I'm doing, Mr Potter," Snape drawled, his attention on the bleeding scar. "And contrary to popular belief, I am not a bat that thrives in darkness."

_Did Snape just make a joke?_

"What happened here, Mr Potter?" Snape asked. He had already conjured some cotton wool and water and was dabbing away the mess of blood. His touch was surprisingly gentle and precise.

"Sir?" Harry asked, still in a daze.

Snape sighed and shot Harry a disparaging look before continuing what he was doing. "Surely, you would not have me believe that your scar started bleeding and your stomach sought to regurgitate your last couple of meals without you being aware of the cause?"

Snape placed the now bloody cotton ball on a metal tray before carefully examining Harry's forehead. It made him feel decidedly uncomfortable.

"I had a dream," Harry admitted.

Snape narrowed his eyes but continued his assessment. "A dream," he repeated carefully.

"Well, it was a dream but it also wasn't," Harry then said.

"Explain," Snape urged. He was now waving his wand in circular patterns, the darkening gaze in his eyes betraying its ineffectiveness.

"I dreamed about Voldemort," Harry explained, ignoring Snape's slight flinch. "I _was_ him, in the dream. He was in a forest. But I don't think he was in the country anymore."

"What was the Dark Lord doing?" Snape asked, now conjuring some very muggle-looking dressings.

Harry exhaled slowly. "He was exploring, I reckon. He was happy about something. I think – I think a plan was set into motion."

Snape carefully opened the dressing's packaging and applied it to Harry's forehead, making sure not to touch the padded area in the middle but only the sticky parts that made up the edges.

"What else?" he asked.

"Wormtail was there," Harry said. "He brought me, I mean Voldemort, a book."

"A book?" Snape repeated. "A book about what?"

"I don't know," Harry replied, feeling uneasy. "But it seemed to be very important to V-"

"Don't," Snape interrupted harshly, "say that name. Not in my presence."

Harry sighed but didn't think the matter to be worth an argument. "It seemed to be important to _him_. He was very happy to have received the book. As if it was what he wanted the most in the whole world."

Snape now leaned back in the chair, regarding Harry carefully. With another wave of his wand, he banished the leftover supplies and dimmed the lights somewhat. "Do you need a headache reliever?" he asked.

Harry blinked in surprise. He really shouldn't be so amazed that Snape was looking after him, taking into account the previous days and all. But to be offered a solution to a simple headache?

_Maybe he has a new version he would like to test._

"Er, sure," Harry said nonetheless. Snape procured a vial from his seemingly bottomless inner pocket and handed it to Harry who swallowed the concoction in one massive gulp. Almost immediately, the sharp pain diminished into a dull throb. Harry almost smiled in relief but didn't want to lower his guard too much. After all, this was still Snape.

"This was not just a dream, was it?" Harry asked after a moment of silence. He twirled the empty potion vial between his fingers.

"I very much doubt it," Snape replied. Harry didn't miss the touch of concern on the man's face, despite it being covered in low shadows. The concern was probably not for Harry, though.

"Then what?" Harry asked. "Was it real? Does V- You-know-who realise that I saw? Did he want me to? Can he look through my –"

"Potter!" Snape interrupted sharply. "I don't have time to play twenty questions with you right now. I will have to discuss this with the headmaster first."

Harry frowned. "But it's _me_ this is happening to," he argued. "You _know_ what's going on, I can tell!"

Snape shook his head. "I cannot," he replied. "As useless as it is for me to tell you this, I need you to be patient. I will not be divulging any secrets to you as of yet and you can't convince me to do so."

"But that's unfair!" Harry exclaimed loudly.

"Well, It may have escaped your notice, but life isn't fair," said Snape matter-of-factly.

"life might not be but I hoped you might," Harry sighed. He didn't even know why he said that. The notion was rather ridiculous, if he really thought about it.

Snape seemed to be done with that particular side tangent of the conversation. He straightened himself and clasped his hands firmly behind his back as he studied his student.

"Do you require a dreamless sleep potion?" he asked.

Harry shook his head. He'd rather not. After all, while completely unpleasant, Harry had gotten a glimpse into one of Voldemort's plans. Not allowing any such information seemed entirely too stupid.

"Very well," Snape said evenly. "Do try not to lie about too long when you next wake. I'm sure you haven't forgotten that we leave for your home in the morning."

_It's not my home._

"And while I may not appreciate your relatives' general attitude, that does not mean that we shouldn't mind how we carry ourselves towards them."

_I've given that up a long time ago._

"I endeavour to be punctual and shall not be pleased if you seek to hinder me in that."

Harry snorted. "I'll be up on time," he said placatingly.

"And at the ready," Snape added.

"Of course," Harry said. Snape threw him one last long look that made Harry wonder if the man was reluctant to leave. But just when it was starting to become awkward, Snape spun on his heel and swept out of the room without so much as a 'Good night, Potter' to announce his departure. He only barely took the time to extinguish the torches, leaving Harry in complete darkness once more.

_So much for decorum._

Harry rolled his eyes, which was entirely pointless since no one could see, and went to bed. He cast a final Lumos to see where the blood on his pillow was situated so he could avoid it, only to notice that it was gone.

_Huh. Imagine that._

Harry quickly fell asleep again, this time dreaming of thestrals and kindly hinkypunks as their lights led him forward.

* * *

Snape knocked three times on the Dursleys' door and took a polite step back while waiting for the expected reply. Harry was standing behind him, trying desperately to not appear frightened or cowed while at the same time using Snape as some sort of shield between him and Uncle Vernon.

They had used the floo to get back to Surrey, stepping out in the home of Mrs Figg. Harry had wanted to ask her many questions. Who she really was and why she kept her identity a secret for such a long time for starters. But Snape would not stand for it. He simply thanked Mrs Figg very curtly and stepped out of her house, practically dragging a very reluctant Harry with him by the upper arm.

The door opened in one sharp movement, revealing Aunt Petunia standing in the doorway.

"Petunia," Snape greeted evenly. "It is my understanding that you have been made aware of our arrival."

Petunia cleared her throat. Her gaze shifted to Harry for one small moment before latching onto Snape, pure hatred and animosity exuding from her every being. Did she not realise that she was antagonising an exceedingly powerful wizard?

"I have," she then said but made no move to step aside.

Snape's lips then contorted into what had to be the creepiest smile Harry ever laid eyes upon. His crooked teeth made him appear like a predator, ready to tear Petunia's throat out and his thin, pale lips distorted the entire smile into more of a grin. One that portrayed nothing but malicious intent. Harry decided then that he'd rather never see Snape smile again. Not like that, at least.

But the painfully fake sweet voice he used to address Petunia next was truly the stuff of nightmares. "Tuney," he practically purred. "It would be dreadful to see you or yours come to harm in any way." Snape started playing with his wand in a deliberate and obvious attempt to threaten the horse-faced woman. "But if you don't desire to play along, I see no choice but to take extreme measures."

"You can't," Petunia spat but she seemed a lot less certain of herself. "There are laws. You can't just-"

"There's a dark wizard loose at the moment," Snape said easily. "He likes to hunt muggles. He enjoys torturing them, raping them, murdering them. It would be all too easy to have the authorities believe that he was behind anything I choose to do to you. Especially since he holds a grudge against your dearest nephew."

Harry had to stop himself from snorting. The ministry didn't want to believe that Voldemort was back. He was aware of that much. They would know in an instant that Snape was to blame if anything were to happen. But Petunia didn't need to know that, of course.

"You would just kill me?" Petunia hissed, trying not to alert any of the neighbours.

"Oh, never, dear Tuney," Snape said silkily. He had stopped playing with his wand and was now aiming it straight at Petunia's chest. "Murder is so very… easy. No, I would have you disappear. I doubt that anyone would bother to look for you in the middle of the Sahara desert. Or perhaps you would prefer Antarctica? The insides of an active volcano perhaps?"

"Enough, already," Petunia spat. It was clear to Harry that she was trying to appear tough and in charge but she was failing miserably. Like so many Hogwarts students before her, she crumbled in the eery presence that was Severus Snape. She stepped aside and allowed the two wizards entry. As soon as Harry had crossed the threshold, she closed the door with a loud slam, glared at Harry in a most foul manner and stomped off toward the kitchen.

"Let's go up to your room," Snape then said, his voice back to his normal drawl. In the face of what Harry had just seen and heard, he dared not argue – and really, why would he – so he hurried up the stairs with Snape only a few steps behind him.

At the top of the stairs, Dudley had just emerged from his room, only to stop in his tracks as he watched Harry approach. He opened his mouth to say something when his gaze shifted to something behind Harry. There was no doubt in his mind that Snape was glowering menacingly at his cousin which was soon proven by the fact that Dudley shut his mouth with a loud click and hurried back inside of his room.

Harry shrugged and stepped into his ridiculously barren and small bedroom. The lumpy bed was still in place, ragged linen thrown haphazardly on top of it, one thin, hard pillow tossed on the floor. From his pocket, Snape retrieved Harry's shrunken things and placed them on the floor, unshrinking them in the process.

"I'm going to establish some ground rules," Snape told Harry. He sniffed and waved his wand over the bed, effectively transforming it into a larger, more comfortable version of itself. The blanket and pillow were also transfigured into better versions of themselves. Harry looked on in amazement and was about to thank Snape when he held up his hand and motioned for Harry to take a seat. He did so only to realise just how fluffy and comfortable his mattress had become.

_Maybe I can't exclude Polyjuice just yet._

Snape didn't sit. Instead, he stood up straighter and crossed his arms, his wand still clenched between his fingers. Harry wondered if he was supposed to be threatened by it and strangely realised that he wasn't.

"First of all, you are not to go anywhere in this house without my company," Snape said. "I will escort you from one room to the other and stay with you. At night, I will spell your door closed and you will remain inside of your room until I come get you the next morning."

"You would lock me in my room?" Harry asked, feeling outraged already.

"As frightened as your relatives are of me, I wouldn't put it past them to try and get in a few more good beatings in a bout of sheer idiocy," Snape explained coldly, ignoring the way Harry flinched at those words. "Nor do I trust you to report to me any wrongdoing on their part," Snape added.

"But you can't expect me to allow you in the bathroom with me," Harry argued again. "There has to be some school rule against that. That's just wrong!"

"Seeing how I'm reasonably sure that your relatives are as of yet unable to apparate, my escorting you to the door and back will suffice," Snape replied.

Harry frowned. He still didn't like it. His privacy would be practically non-existent. On the other hand, his relatives wouldn't be able to lay a hand on him. Not with Snape there. Was his safety a great enough reward to give up his privacy, though?

"You have no choice in the matter, Potter," Snape said as if he had been able to read Harry's mind. "This is for your own good and I would appreciate it if you could, for once, accept that."

"But what when _you_ need to use the bathroom?" Harry then asked. "You can't expect me to follow you inside!"

"I will lock you in your room while I use the facilities," Snape explained. "It is convenient that they are on the same floor."

Harry huffed and crossed his arms but said nothing. His input wouldn't matter anyway.

"Furthermore, since you have no doubt not done a single part of your homework yet –"

"I didn't get the chance to!" Harry shouted angrily.

Snape ignored his outburst. "- You will do so over the span of the next couple of weeks. I will read over your essays and mark what you will need to alter, add or substitute. You will follow my direction and do so without complaining."

Snape fixed Harry with a murderous glare as if challenging him to speak up then and there but Harry clamped his mouth shut.

"Good," Snape said. "Lastly, I need you to follow me in everything I tell your relatives. Remember that everything I say here serves a purpose. One that I will not have you meddle in."

_Why would I? It's only my life._

"Cross me on this and the beginning of your fifth year could be very unpleasant."

Harry sighed.

"I expect you to respond to me verbally, Mr Potter," Snape chided.

"Yes," Harry said.

"Yes, _sir_," Snape spat.

_How could I have ever thought that things might change?_

"Yes, sir," Harry replied.

Snape nodded in approval. "Good. Now let's head down. I believe that it's time for luncheon."

"I doubt Aunt Petunia has anything prepared for us," Harry said, frowning a bit.

Snape simply smirked maliciously. "We shall see."

* * *

_When I first started writing this chapter, I had expected it to mostly be about the return to the Dursleys. It's not how it turned out but I'm still quite pleased. Please let me know what you thought of the chapter. Are you happy Voldemort made an appearance? *grins*_

_I'll see you all on Friday!_


	10. Chapter 10

_Hi gang and welcome to chapter 10! The stay at the Dursleys had been wrapped up into one chapter for about a week now but then I noticed that a lot of you were looking forward to reading about some fun/ embarrassing situations at the house. So, I made some changes. I split the original chapter in two and added some extra scenes in between. I hope you'll like what I came up with! Enjoy!_

* * *

**Chapter 10**

Snape and Harry sat down at the kitchen table while Petunia was baking some eggs. Dudley had already sat down and visibly blanched when Harry arrived downstairs. But if Harry thought about it, his cousin was probably more afraid of the tall, dark man sitting down next to Harry, his every movement deliberate and smooth.

Petunia didn't say a word, though Harry was sure that she realised they were there from the way she tensed up. Harry sighed. It's not as if he wasn't used to being ignored but it still stung. Dudley, on the other hand, didn't seem as blatantly appalled by Harry's presence as he usually was. Harry leaned back and regarded his cousin carefully.

He had lost a bit of weight. Not much, mind you, but enough to be somewhat noticeable. They had probably fed him normal portions at the hospital. Here and there, his skin was still splotchy with brown spots. But they weren't too noticeable and could easily be hidden with a long-sleeved shirt. And even if a muggle saw them, they wouldn't suspect anything too strange going on. The couple of twigs that seemed to sprout from within his hair were a bit more odd, though, and could probably not be explained. They were the main reason that Dudley still had to stay inside. Harry felt a bit torn between feeling amused and guilty. Amusement ultimately won, though.

"What are you smirking about?" Petunia spat angrily as she turned around with two plates in her hands. One was overflowing quite royally with eggs and bacon while the other one carried a very modest portion. She set them before Dudley and herself, ignoring Snape and Harry quite resolutely.

Dudley's gaze shifted from his mother to Snape and Harry. He picked up his fork but didn't start eating, as if he wasn't sure what to do.

"See?" Harry told Snape. "I told you she wouldn't have anything prepared for us."

"Are you quite certain?" Snape asked. "The portion on your cousin's plate is enough to easily feed three people."

"You can find and cook your own food," Petunia snarled. "Feeding you was not part of the deal."

"Nor was leaving your husband intact," Snape replied easily. He grabbed the plate Dudley still hadn't touched and slid it in front of Harry. He then deftly snatched the fork from Dudley's hand and handed it to Harry as well. "You don't seem to realise that your husband could end up in Azkaban. Surely, you haven't forgotten what dementors are, have you?"

_What just happened?_

Harry sat there completely stunned as he eyed the nauseatingly large pile of food that was now waiting for him to tuck in. He glanced at Dudley who seemed to be equally stunned, his hand still clasping the air where his fork used to be. He looked at Harry but without malice or contempt. There was only genuine confusion.

Petunia, on the other hand, turned a very bright red. One Harry usually only saw on Vernon. But her anger was not directed at him.

"You dare!" she exclaimed, pointing a bony finger at Snape who casually leaned his chin on his hand. "You dare steal the food out of my son's mouth to feed that… that freak!"

"Your son hardly needs more fattening up," Snape replied. "Besides, he might very well still be using photosynthesis to feed himself."

Harry snorted and quickly took a bite to hide his mirth.

"You fiend," Petunia snarled. "Hasn't your ilk done enough to damage my family yet? Wasn't it enough for you to take Lily? Now that freak son of hers almost murdered mine and I'm _still_ expected to take care of him."

Harry glanced at Snape whose mood seemed to have grown a lot darker all of a sudden. Before the man could speak, Harry thought to defuse the situation.

"I'm very sorry about what happened, Aunt Petunia," he told her, ignoring the loud growl coming from Snape's throat behind him. "I'm sure Dudley was never in any real danger but it can't have been fun for him."

Petunia scoffed. "Don't apologise as if you didn't mean to hurt poor Dudders!" she screeched.

"Mum," Dudley said lowly but he was ignored.

"You turned him into a tree, you did! How could you ever have thought that appropriate?!"

"Mum," Dudley said a bit louder this time but he was still ignored. Not even Snape seemed to hear him. Harry glanced at his cousin but quickly focused his attention back on Petunia when she kept on screeching.

"You and your freakish powers have taken my sister away from me, you horrid boy!"

"Mum."

"And now you almost took my son away from me as well! Vernon was turned into a toad for hours! You blew up Aunt Marge! What more do you want to take from me?!"

"Mum!"

This time, Dudley had shouted, completely drowning out his mother's horrid screeching that had Snape fuming horribly. It was a miracle that the man hadn't said anything yet. Harry felt very deflated, suddenly aware of how much magic had caused Petunia to suffer. And Harry was the cause of every one of those horrible experiences of her. It was no wonder she hated him. Dudley's loud voice had brought him out of his reveries, though.

"Mum, stop this," he said. "Harry didn't almost kill me. I was the one who –" he shot a glance at Harry and he almost imagined that there was some sort of apology in those eyes. "I attacked him," Dudley concluded. "Harry was just trying to defend himself, I think. It was not his fault."

_Not my fault?_

"Dudley, that can't be right," Petunia said softly, fixing Harry with a menacing glare. "That freak boy changed your memory. He's making you think that you're some sort of delinquent. But you're not. You're my perfect little boy."

"God, mum, wake up and smell the roses, would you?" Dudley said harshly. Absentmindedly, Harry took another bite of bacon as he took in the scene with wide eyes. Was Dudley actually defending him? What was happening?

"I attacked him with a knife. He turned me into a tree. End of story."

"But –"

"Tuney," Snape finally interjected, sounding as if one wrong word might just set him off. And _his_ magic would not be accidental. "Your son is confessing to what I believe to be quite a serious transgression. If you don't stop harassing Mr Potter right this instant, our deal is off and we shall both take our leave."

"You can't do that," Petunia argued. "Dudley still looks like –"

"Then stop that incessant screeching of yours, and provide everyone who currently resides under your roof with adequate provisions," Snape told her.

"You can't be serious!" Petunia exclaimed.

"Honestly, Petunia," Snape growled. "Have you ever known me not to be? You would do well to heed my words. And don't forget. If you no longer serve your purpose, there is no need to hold off the Aurors."

Petunia blanched and Harry wondered about her recognition of the word Aurors. Come to think of it, she seemed to understand what dementors were as well. And the way Snape talked… Did she know about the wards as well?

"I'm just going to ask it," Harry then said out loud, sliding the still very full plate away from him. But he had eaten his fill and couldn't possibly stomach another bite. "How do you two know each other?"

"That is none of your concern," bit Snape at the same time that Petunia snarled, "None of your business."

Harry unintentionally met Dudley's gaze who just shrugged. Feeling comfortable that neither Snape nor Petunia would harm him at the moment, he ventured forth.

"You didn't used to date or something, did you?"

Both Snape and Petunia's expression turned so fiercely angry at that question, that Harry unconsciously shrunk a bit in his seat.

_Wrong question!_

"You insolent boy!" Petunia yelled, raising her hand to slap Harry in the face. But Snape was quicker. He grabbed her hand, mid-movement as he rose from his seat, the chair clattering loudly to the floor. For a moment, everyone seemed to freeze. Snape and Petunia were staring each other down. Snape was still holding her wrist rather firmly. Her fingers were drawn back in a claw-like position that would have likely left nasty scratches on Harry's face. Meanwhile, Dudley was still sitting in his chair. He didn't move a muscle as if afraid to set off Snape but his eyes were taking in the scene frantically.

Harry swallowed thickly, not eager to be the first to move but Snape was standing very close to him from stopping Petunia and his aunt wasn't that much farther away. It was decidedly uncomfortable. So much so, that he couldn't stop himself. He started laughing.

Three incredulous gazes slowly shifted his way as if ascertaining if Harry had finally gone bonkers.

_I just might have._

"Does something amuse you, Mr Potter?" Snape asked, the first to dare address him.

Harry reduced his laughter into snickering and wiped a few tears from his eyes. "No, not really," he managed to choke out between gasps. "It's just ridiculous. So ridiculous!"

Snape stared him down for a moment more before addressing Petunia. "Sit down," he snapped at her. "And if you so much as raise another hand at the boy, you will find yourself on the receiving end of one of the more _unpleasant_ curses in my repertoire."

The angry fire in Petunia's eyes died down somewhat. She wrenched her wrist from Snape's grasp and sat back down. "I hate you," she muttered softly.

"The feeling is entirely mutual," Snape said coolly before returning to his own seat. He then accio'd another fork from the kitchen drawers and helped himself to about half of what was left on the plate that had been meant for Dudley. Harry was amazed that his cousin hadn't protested about that yet, but figured that he was just scared of Snape. Anyone with half a brain would be scared of the Potions Master, after all.

Ten minutes later, he all but tossed the remainder of Dudley's portion in his direction. "If your mother manages to provide us each with our own portion this evening, you won't have to suffer through another cold meal," he said evenly, then got up from his seat and motioned for Harry to do the same.

"Show me to the guest room, Mr Potter," Snape ordered. Harry scrambled to obey as fast as he could. He was more than happy to remove himself from the decidedly uncomfortable atmosphere that hovered in the Dursley's kitchen, even if it meant being alone with Snape. Petunia made an ugly noise when Snape mentioned the guest bedroom but didn't comment.

* * *

Time passed by slowly at the Dursleys. When Vernon had first laid eyes upon Snape he had, opposed to what Harry had anticipated, yelped and run off to hide from the man. He probably still remembered his unfortunate transformation courtesy of Snape. Harry would have found that funny, had he not felt guilty remembering Petunia's words.

At least Vernon had dared make an appearance at dinner. He kept his head down and hardly spoke. Petunia had made enough for Harry and Snape to join in as well that night. When the portion on Harry's plate left much to be desired, Snape added some extra scoops of potatoes and vegetables, daring either Petunia or Vernon to say something. For some reason, he had glared at Harry as well but he just shrugged it off.

Harry's favourite moment was when Snape asked Vernon to pass the salt, causing the man to yelp indignantly and fall off his chair before scrambling back to his feet and carefully handing Snape the salt shaker.

A close second was when Vernon was sending Harry murderous glares when he thought Snape wasn't looking and the Potions Master casually mentioned how he had an urgent need to replenish his stock with toad legs. Vernon had blanched and not looked at Harry even one more time.

It quickly became quite annoying not being let out of Snape's sight but Harry supposed he understood. With the state Snape had found him in not too long ago, he was sure that the man might worry that Vernon could kill him next time. Harry shuddered as he thought what they would have done to him if Snape wasn't there now that they found out about Dudley. Death would have been the least of his problems.

Snape was adamant about helping Harry with his summer homework. Harry thought this had more to do with the fact that he was quite bored himself rather than concern for Harry's grades but Harry wished the man would find another pastime. He was, after all, very strict. Harry supposed he could've expected as much for his potions essay but Snape expected the same ridiculous standard for everyone else's subject. Even divination! For Harry this meant writing, correcting and rewriting all of his essays several times. For once, he had the time to do so. After all, Snape would not allow the Dursleys to have him do any more chores.

"While I believe it healthy for a child to be assigned the occasional chore, I feel that you have depleted the amount you may ethically request for several lifetimes," he had said, not allowing Petunia any say in the matter. "If you must, you may always assign some tasks to that whale of a boy you call your son."

But Petunia hadn't done that. She had simply done everything herself from there on out, but not without openly glaring at Harry and Snape as they sat at the kitchen table, working on Harry's homework.

Dudley had been a big surprise. At first, he seemed very reluctant to approach Harry at all but after a couple of days, he had started making himself a sandwich while Harry was scribbling away to finish the conclusion of his defence essay and had promptly asked him if he or Snape wanted one as well.

Harry's mouth fell open, his quill dripping ink all over his parchment. "Wait, what?" he finally stammered.

Dudley smiled crookedly, as if nervous but still trying to make an effort. "I asked if you wanted a sandwich as well," he repeated. "There's still cheese and salami if you want."

"Er, no thank you, Dudley," Harry replied. "I'm not hungry." He had, after all, eaten two hours ago. Snape simply shook his head. He lazily waved his wand to get rid of the ink blotches now marring Harry's otherwise neat essay.

"So, what are you doing?" Dudley asked. He took his plate of sandwiches to the table and sat down in front of Harry, looking at the books surrounding him with curiosity. Harry thought that strange. His cousin had never liked books before.

_Polyjuice. I see polyjuice everywhere! Do people really change so easily?_

"Homework," Harry replied curtly, eyeing Dudley suspiciously.

"That's a lot of homework," Dudley replied. "Your teachers must be tough."

Harry glanced at Snape and snorted. "You can say that again," he said. "Wait, don't _you_ have any summer assignments?"

"Nah," Dudley replied, taking the first bite from his sandwich which took off nearly half of it in one go. "When school is out it's out, the teachers say."

"Are they not familiar with the concept that children forget a large amount of what they learned over the summer when not properly challenged?" Snape asked.

Dudley blinked. "Er… I guess not," he then said.

"Preposterous," Snape scoffed.

"Wait a moment," Dudley then said, his eyes wide. "Bogarts are real?!" His eyes fell on the illustration of a tree hollow with eerie eyes looming in the dark. Underneath it 'bogart' was written in an aesthetically pleasing script.

"They are," Harry explained. "But don't worry. You're not likely to see one."

"I wouldn't say that if I were you, Mr Potter," Snape said as he browsed through Harry's potion book, scoffing at the dog-eared pages he encountered. "With a magical relative such as yourself, it wouldn't be all that strange for your cousin to encounter some of our creatures."

Dudley had stiffened but Harry rolled his eyes. He wanted to say something to put Dudley more at ease when he was suddenly reminded of what a horrid person the boy could be. And no, people didn't just change overnight. Urging himself to be more cautious, Harry shrugged and continued writing his conclusion.

Dudley sat in silence, watching Harry work while he wolfed down his sandwiches. When Harry finally finished and passed his scroll to Snape to have him reread the thing and probably taint the entire essay with red ink, Dudley spoke again.

"Did you know you're famous?" he asked Harry.

Harry groaned. "Dudley, please don't," he pleaded. Snape gave him a very curious look but didn't add to the conversation.

"Yeah, when I told them who it was that, well, changed me, they asked me all sorts of questions."

Harry's breath got caught in his throat. "What did you tell them?" he asked nervously. If Dudley had been stupid enough to tell everyone about him sleeping in a cupboard and getting bested by your everyday muggles, he wasn't sure he'd be able to live it down. His face had been in the papers enough as it was. He did _not_ want his personal life exposed all over the front page.

"I couldn't really answer most of them," Dudley said sheepishly. "The question they wanted answered the most was what you can still remember from, well, _that_ night."

"And what did you say?" Harry asked, scared of the answer.

"I said that you have nightmares sometimes," Dudley replied, looking embarrassed. "But that I don't really know."

Harry frowned. He didn't like the general populace knowing that he had nightmares but it wouldn't really come as a shock to most. It could be worse.

"What else?" Harry asked urgently.

"Nothing too interesting, I think," Dudley said. "Favourite subject, colour, best friend, rival, and a lot of questions about what kind of partner you would be interested in."

Harry groaned again while Snape seemed to hide a smirk behind Harry's essay.

"And what did you say to that?" Harry asked, feeling murderous already.

Dudley blushed like mad. "I er… I couldn't say anything," he said sheepishly. "I guess I don't know you at all, really. So I just told them that you wouldn't want me to talk about you like that."

Harry chuckled. "Well, at least you got that right about me."

"Yeah, so er…" Dudley seemed entirely uncomfortable. "What _is_ your favourite colour?"

"Green," Harry said without hesitation. He frowned at Snape when the man snorted. "What?" he asked. "Not only Slytherins are allowed to like green, you know. I bet Malfoy secretly likes red."

"I highly doubt it," Snape replied evenly. "But gold might be an option."

"Dudley!" Harry looked up when Petunia appeared in the doorway, a dishcloth and plate in her hands. "What are you doing? Get away from them!"

"It's okay, mum," Dudley said. "We're just talking."

"Don't argue with me," Petunia said sternly. "Get over here this moment or so help me, I'll be donating half of your things to charity."

Dudley's eyes widened for an instant before he glanced at Harry apologetically and got up. He left his now empty plate on the table and walked over to his mother who seemed desperate to not get within three feet of the two wizards. Once Dudley walked into her range, she grabbed his flabby arm and shoved him out of the kitchen. With one last malicious glare at Harry she exited the kitchen, slamming the door behind her.

"Pleasant as always," Snape growled.

"You know," Harry said. "It's really not fair to expect me to stay silent about your obvious link to my aunt while you keep implying it."

Snape huffed. "Duly noted. Your essay is satisfactory, by the way." He handed Harry his essay back, not a single red mark on it.

"Thank you, sir," he said, rolling up the parchment and tying it up with a ribbon.

"Get started on your potions essay next," Snape told him. "You obviously wish to leave it for last but I won't stand for it. I imagine you'll need to rewrite it at least a dozen times before I deem it satisfactory."

Harry groaned but grabbed his potions book from where Snape had put it and unfurled a fresh sheet of parchment. He wrote the title '_Seven ways to determine a plant's innate properties'_ and opened the book.

_I bet 'asking Hermione' is not a valid way._

* * *

Snape's constant hovering was very annoying for Harry. But what irked him the most were the times when Snape didn't have eyes on all the Dursleys and insisted on waiting for Harry outside of the bathroom. So much so that at one point, Harry seriously considered escaping from the small window that connected to the front yard.

After contemplating glorious escape for a few minutes, a harsh pounding on the door reminded him of Snape's close proximity. "I don't have all day, Potter!" came Snape's muffled voice.

"So go away, already!" Harry retorted. "You know I can't… go when someone's listening."

"Simply pretend that I'm not," Snape told him casually.

"Oh yeah, that's really helpful," Harry muttered under his breath.

"I heard that, Potter," Snape said. "Stop muttering to yourself and get on with it."

_Stupid bat hearing._

Harry groaned and decided that enough was enough. Being safe from his relatives was dandy and all but at that point, he thought he'd rather take the risk than go through even one more mortifying minute with Snape. He unlatched the window and opened it. Then, to avoid Snape's acute hearing, he turned on the faucet and allowed the water to run in the sink.

"Almost done!" he shouted for good measure. He knew very well that Snape was likely to kill him after he found out but he would do anything for a bit of freedom now. There came no reply but Harry imagined the man grunting as he leaned against the wall.

The window was very small and Harry had to wiggle like a worm as he squirmed out of the compact, square opening.

_Dudley wouldn't be able to pull this off. Ever._

He climbed backwards out of the window, his feet finding purchase on the intricate wooden frame that was supposed to support Petunia's roses. Carefully, he climbed down and exhaled a sigh of relief when his feet finally touched the ground.

"Out for a stroll, Mr Potter?"

Harry nearly jumped out of his skin. Slowly, as to not have to accept cruel reality just yet, he turned his head only to find the Potions Master standing right behind him.

"Oh," he said. It was all he could manage to say.

"Were you confused as to what was the exit of the bathroom, perhaps?" Snape asked. "I'll make sure to remedy that next time by leaving the door open."

"You wouldn't!" Harry shouted, taking a step back so he wasn't in such close proximity to his professor anymore.

"I would if I deemed it necessary, Potter," Snape snarled. "You clearly wish to evade my continuous efforts to keep you safe. It's a pity that I don't go back on my word or I would take this little escapade of yours as an appropriate reason to simply go back home."

"So go!" Harry shouted. "I release you from your promise, alright?"

_What am I saying?!_

"I'm sure I'll be fine without you. I always have been before."

"Absolutely not, Potter," Snape drawled. "My promise was not only made to you."

_What the hell does that mean?_

"I don't want you standing guard near the bathroom door," Harry said sullenly. "It makes me feel like a prisoner in my own…"

_Home?_

"Surely, you understand why I must," Snape said. "I don't trust those Dursleys. And I don't like the way your uncle looks at you."

Harry snorted. "You mean like he would like to drown me in the bathtub?"

Snape looked at him strangely. "Are you implying…"

"Forget it," Harry dismissed urgently. "Look. I can go to the bathroom by myself. The door locks from the inside, you know? And the Dursleys can't exactly spell the door open."

"Perhaps not," Snape replied. "But your uncle could probably break the door down simply by leaning into it."

Harry sighed. "He wouldn't break down the house just to get to me," he said. "And if he tried, I'm sure you would hear the noise before he succeeded and you could save the day again."

Snape shook his head. "Are you accusing me of being some kind of benevolent saviour, Mr Potter?" he asked. He started walking out of the front yard and motioned with his head for Harry to follow him.

"Well," Harry said, lengthening the word. "If you think about it, you do keep saving me. Though calling you benevolent might be a bit of a stretch."

"I assure you that the only reason I come to your rescue so often is that you manage to endanger yourself all the time," Snape said coldly. "And since I'm your teacher, I have little choice but to come to your aid."

"Ah, it's all part of the job, is it?" Harry retorted. "Maybe next time you can send Flitwick instead. Or better yet, McGonagall. She _is_ my head of house, after all."

"Professors and rescue mission aside, I will agree to try out your usage of the facilities your way," Snape then said. "But if you try to escape again, I will tie you to your bed and make sure that you don't have to relieve yourself anymore for the duration of our stay."

Harry frowned. "How does _that_ work?"

Snape smirked maliciously. "There are certain… spells for that," he said dangerously.

_Why does he sound like he would enjoy that very much?_

"Yeah, no," Harry said. "I'll just… behave."

Snape nodded curtly. "Inside, Potter," he said as he opened the door for his student. "And if you have no use for it, remove that toilet paper from your shoe."

Harry flushed when he noticed the long, white strand of paper on his right trainer and quickly tore it off, balling it up as if to hide it even though Snape had long since seen it. When he walked into the house, he could've sworn he heard a deep chuckle behind him.

* * *

The Dursleys still didn't like it when Harry was delivered his post via owl. It was one of the main reasons Harry hadn't taken Hedwig with him this year. He couldn't even count the number of times Vernon had threatened to snap her neck and he honestly didn't want to take a chance with the man.

Snape received his Daily Prophet, as the name would suggest, every day, dutifully paying the owl the knuts it required and feeding it a strip of bacon or bread from his plate. Petunia absolutely hated the practice and had shrieked at Snape at the top of her lungs when it happened the first time.

"If I don't feed it something, it might decide not to leave until I do," Snape had told her. "In fact, that mess on your head that you call hair might make an excellent nest for it, don't you think?"

Petunia had sputtered and pursed her lips but hadn't made any more comments. But every plate that had been in the vicinity of an owl got washed twice. Dudley, oddly enough, seemed to be used to owls flying about. It made Harry wonder just how many magical things his cousin had witnessed on a daily basis.

_Maybe he doesn't think I'm a freak anymore._

But even Dudley was completely shocked when Snape got a message from Dumbledore during dinner because that happened, as always, in style.

Somewhere between the soup and the roast beef, a great ball of fire seemingly appeared out of nowhere above the table, as if it were an absurdly bright and flashy chandelier. Petunia had started screaming and tossed her glass of wine at it while Vernon, after throwing a withering look Harry's way, moved to take the safety blanket from the kitchen. Dudley had cowered underneath the kitchen table, but not before grabbing a piece of bread to take with him.

No sooner did Vernon open the kitchen drawer when the ball of fire extinguished itself to reveal Fawkes in all his glory. Snape sat there looking completely unimpressed as he gingerly cut his meat into smaller pieces and speared one of the pieces with his fork. Harry, while he knew Fawkes, was not used to the phoenix barging in out of nowhere and sat there with mouth agape in wonder.

"Wow," he breathed.

Snape glared at him. "Don't encourage this behaviour," he snarled. "Honestly, a post owl would have sufficed but Albus Dumbledore just had to teach a phoenix to deliver his mail." He shook his head and bit into a piece of cauliflower.

"What is that monster?!" Petunia screeched while Fawkes flew over to Snape and landed on his shoulder, gently tugging at a strand of his hair.

"It's not a monster," Harry said. "It's a phoenix."

"Awesome!" Dudley exclaimed, raising his head just enough to look at the fiery red bird who sat quite contently where he had landed.

"Get it out of here before it burns the house down!" Vernon yelled fiercely but when Snape glared at him dangerously, he lost his bravado. "I mean, when it's convenient for you, of course."

"Honestly, Vernon!" Petunia hollered at her husband. "Get that beast out of here! It's just a bird!"

"Well then, you get it out if it's just a bird," Vernon muttered.

Snape ignored their bickering and wiped his mouth on a napkin before accepting Dumbledore's letter from Fawkes' sharp talons. Fawkes trilled gently before he started to preen his feathers.

"Hi Fawkes," Harry said while Snape unfolded and read the letter. "I haven't seen you in a while. How have you been?"

Fawkes trilled happily at Harry and hopped down Snape's arm and onto the table.

"Get it off!" Petunia yelled. She grabbed a frying pan and was about to smack Fawkes with it when Snape flicked his wrist, never taking his eyes off the letter, and hit Petunia with a silent stunner.

_Bloody hell! Wandless _and_ non-verbal!_

Fawkes clicked his beak in dismay and Harry could almost see a sort of annoyance in the intelligent animal's eyes.

Vernon was cowering in a corner by then. "Please," he pleaded. "Don't turn me into anything else. The bird can stay as long as it wants. I swear!"

"Silence, Dursley," Snape commanded. "I'm trying to read." Vernon didn't say another word and Harry couldn't help but stare at the overgrown man now cowering on the floor next to Petunia. He absentmindedly stroked Fawkes while the phoenix helped himself to some of Harry's roast.

_I never realised just how… weak he can be. I can't believe that's the man who… ugh._

Snape sighed and grabbed a pen that lay on the kitchen counter behind him. He turned over the letter and scribbled something in reply in a neat but hasty scrawl.

"Fawkes," he said. The phoenix hopped over to him and accepted the letter. With one last melodic trill, he enveloped himself into another ball of fire and then he was gone.

'What did he want?" Harry asked casually as he speared a potato.

"Hogwarts business," Snape replied. He grabbed the bottle of wine and refilled his own glass. "None of your concern, in any case."

Harry glanced over to his aunt who still lay stunned on the floor with next to her a frantic-looking Vernon who still didn't speak.

"Er, sir?" Harry said. "Shouldn't you… you know?"

Snape looked up and glanced at Petunia. "Oh, right," he said. "I completely forgot."

_Like hell you did._

Snape flicked his wrist again and Petunia woke from her magically induced incapacitation.

"The roast is really quite succulent today," Snape told Harry. "Would you give me the recipe, Tuney?"

Petunia cried out in indignation and stomped out of the kitchen. Harry was unable to suppress his laughter.

Snape shrugged. "Family secret, I suppose," he said and continued eating as if nothing was amiss.

* * *

_Did you all enjoy it? I sure thought it was a lot of fun. There's to be more fun planned for Tuesday but by the end of it, the Dursley stay will end. I hope you'll look forward to it! And please do leave me with a review._


	11. Chapter 11

_Welcome back everyone! I really enjoyed all of your reviews and am so happy that I made so many of you laugh. I hope at least part of this chapter can accomplish the same. It became a lot bigger than expected when I set out to write some extra scenes but that's how these things go, I guess. Please enjoy!_

* * *

**Chapter 11**

It was the thirtieth of July and Harry found himself wondering about his friends as he ate his dinner. He was turning fifteen in a few short hours and normally he would be on the receiving end of a parliament of owls forcing their way through his window.

And normally, this wouldn't be too much of a problem. The Dursleys tended to sleep like logs and while waking up screaming from nightmares might do the trick, the soft tapping of owl beaks on his window was not enough to rouse them from their slumber. He imagined, though, that Snape was not such a heavy sleeper and would be up in moments.

And wasn't sneakily receiving presents in the middle of the night not just such a mortifying occasion he'd rather Snape wasn't aware of? He didn't have to realise that it was his birthday, after all. If Harry kept his mouth shut, the day would pass like any other. If he could just tell his friends that they shouldn't send him anything, he would. But he had no such means. The best he could think of was using the muggle post to send something to Hermione but if he wanted to do that, he should've thought of it sooner. The muggle post was, after all, agonisingly slow.

He was quiet throughout dinner. Not that he usually spoke that much but lately Dudley did try to direct some questions at him, much to the consternation of his mother. And while Harry would usually answer them, albeit reluctantly, today he found himself responding with nothing more than absentminded grunts. This impolite behaviour earned him some glares from his aunt but he ignored those steadfastly. Snape was also quiet. But that was nothing new.

At around ten in the evening, Harry had quite enough of trying to keep himself occupied with watching what the Dursleys were watching and observing Snape while he read a book, his facial expression never, not even once, shifting. For a moment, he wondered just how absurd this situation would look to anyone else and decided that it still looked off, even to him.

_Merlin, my life is so messed up right now. Get Voldemort and Malfoy in here and the pack of people who dislike Harry Potter the most is complete._

"I want to go to my room," Harry announced to Snape.

Snape glanced up from his book and nodded. "Very well," he said. Without either of them saying goodnight or anything of the sort to the Dursleys, they went up the stairs. Harry took refuge in his room, where no one would bother him, and allowed himself to be locked in.

And then the waiting game began.

While Harry was usually excited about the thirty-first of July arriving, he found himself to be less enthusiastic this time. Why that was, he didn't know but the fact of the matter was that he had already fallen asleep on top of his bedcovers when the first owl tapped his window.

It took him a while before he even realised what was happening. Blearily, he opened his eyes and stared rather stupidly at the source of the sound. A few more seconds went by before he became aware of just what he was looking at. The owl's tapping became louder with annoyance and Harry rose quietly from his bed, walking over to the window as he rubbed his tired eyes.

"Alright, I'm coming," he mumbled. "Don't get your feathers all ruffled."

The owl, who he now recognised as Pig, stopped tapping the window and stared at Harry while he opened the window. It didn't open much, courtesy of Snape to keep him from trying to escape, but just enough for an owl to slip through.

Pig flew into the room and dropped a package on Harry's bed. Harry moved to close the window when more owls appeared, wanting to be let in. Harry couldn't help but smile when seeing the abundance of gifts his friends had sent him. Sometimes it was nice to know that he wasn't forgotten.

When all packages and letters had been dropped, the owls settled on different items they deemed worthy enough to serve as perches and started hooting at each other.

"Shhh," Harry urged. "I don't have any food in here with me. Sorry."

One of the owls clicked his beak indignantly.

"I know," Harry replied apologetically, trying to keep his voice down. "I should have prepared something. It's not like you guys came as a surprise."

_But I couldn't have done so without Snape suspecting anything._

"I don't though. So er… thanks, I guess, and good night?"

A couple of the owls took the hint and took off but two others, including pig, stayed put and watched Harry expectantly.

"I really don't, you know," Harry repeated. "So could you please just, I don't know, go back home?"

Pig screeched at him then and Harry's eyes widened.

_Oh crap._

He approached the owls and tried to physically grab Pig to toss him out of the window himself but the little owl was faster and more agile than he was, at least when he didn't have his broom, and flew out of his reach immediately. Harry lost his balance when he grabbed the air instead of an owl and fell over, against his rubbish bin that fell to the ground with a horribly loud clanging.

_Even Uncle Vernon will be awake now._

"Get over here," Harry hissed at Pig but the owl seemed to like this game of catch and kept flying tauntingly close into Harry's reach before dodging his hands again and perching somewhere else. Feathers were starting to fill his room and Harry had had quite enough. He grabbed his pillow and tossed it at Pig. What happened next came straight out of a horror movie.

The door to his room flew open, revealing Snape brandishing his wand, ready to attack. It was at that moment that Harry had tossed the pillow in Pig's direction which, incidentally, was now Snape's direction as well. Pig happily dodged the pillow but Snape, who hadn't expected a flying object of this nature, was hit right in the face, the pillow bursting open to reveal even more feathers that now covered Snape's hair, black robes and the floor on which he stood.

Had Harry been a bystander, he would've laughed at the rather ridiculous scene. But he was _not_ a bystander. He was the one who threw the pillow so all he could do was stare at Snape in horror, the man staring back at him as if he didn't quite know what to make of the situation.

_I wonder what they'll put on my headstone. Here lies Harry Potter, died in a pillow fight with Severus Snape. He should have known better._

When Snape recovered from his temporary state of befuddlement, he closed the door with a snap and advanced on Harry. "What are you doing?" he hissed. "And what are these owls doing here?"

"Delivering mail," Harry said weakly.

Snape scoffed. "And is there any reason why you are throwing things at said owls, Potter?"

Harry tried his very best not to look at the white feathers sticking out of Snape's hair.

_I am not smiling. The corners of my mouth will obey me. Smiling is suicide._

"They wouldn't leave, sir," Harry said politely, hoping that Snape would interpret the quiver in his voice as fear rather than Harry trying to keep himself from laughing.

Snape's dark eyes now fixed on the two owls. "Out," he growled and the birds obeyed immediately without making another sound. Snape closed the window behind them and turned back to Harry who was looking decidedly sheepish. He stood in front of his bed, trying his best to block the packages now strewn across it.

"Explain yourself, Potter," Snape growled. "What missive could be urgent enough to send to you in the middle of the night?"

"That's private," Harry said.

Snape narrowed his eyes. "Potter," he said. "If it's important, you should let me know. You're making my role here a lot harder by keeping things from me."

"You really don't need to know about this," Harry said, his eyes following a feather that had dislodged itself from Snape's robes and was now gently floating down before getting stuck again.

"I'll be the judge of that," Snape replied coldly. "Out with it!"

"Ismaberda," Harry mumbled.

"In Merlin's name, Potter, speak up," Snape chided. "You have already awakened me quite abruptly with your ridiculously loud fumbling around. If you keep me up longer than necessary, I will not be held responsible for my actions."

_Right. You would need your beauty sleep._

"It's my birthday, alright?" Harry said in exasperation. "I got some gifts from my friends. That's all." Harry stepped aside to show Snape the presents.

Snape sighed and uncrossed his arms. "Honestly," he grumbled. "The ridiculous adolescent situations you insist on putting me through. Go to sleep, Potter."

"In a few minutes, Professor," Harry said.

"As long as you keep down the racket," Snape said evenly. "One noise from the obnoxious presents your friends chose to send you and I will banish all of them from existence."

"Alright," Harry agreed.

Without another word, Snape left the room in a flutter of feathers and locked the door once more with a spell. Harry breathed a relieved sigh and went on to unpack the presents he got. Most of them were quiet and calm, making no noise whatsoever. When he unpacked Ron's gift, though, he was practically assaulted by a snitch that made a high-pitched noise increasing in volume when you got closer to it, probably to practice catching it. It took Harry a while to find out how to turn it off and when he finally did, he stared at his door in horrid anticipation.

But Snape didn't come in again and left him to celebrate his birthday in peace. Just the way he always did.

* * *

Harry watched from behind the window as the Dursleys backed out of the driveway. They were heading towards Dudley's favourite restaurant where they would be spending the next couple of hours feasting like kings and treating the poor staff like their own personal servants. Not to the extent they treated Harry, of course, but just barely polite enough to not be thrown out. Neither Harry nor Snape were invited to tag along but, for once, Harry didn't mind as much. Them being gone meant that Snape didn't have to hover as much as he had done the last couple of weeks and Harry would enjoy that freedom.

He all but rushed into the sitting room and skidded to a halt as he dropped to the floor to sit in front of the tv, legs crossed.

Dudley had left his PlayStation plugged into the television and Harry was aching to try out one of the games. He didn't look up when Snape casually strolled into the room and sat down on the couch, rather than on the floor, opening a book that had been closed around a bookmark.

Harry very carefully opened the case of a fighting game and placed it into the console, waiting in anticipation to see if it would accept the game rather than give the typical error that called for a valid disk. But the game was accepted on the first try and Harry watched excitedly as it started up.

"Shouldn't you be revising your homework instead?" Snape asked.

"No, thank you," Harry said absentmindedly as he tried to enjoy the opening scene.

"At least turn the sound down," Snape then growled but Harry wasn't really listening.

"Hn," he responded, now moving to lie flat on his belly. Even though Dudley had unlocked nearly every character, he still chose one of the basics, a male character with black, pointy hair, to play with and fought the computer. He wasn't very good.

"Potter," Snape snarled after a while. His tone was dangerous enough for Harry to pause the game and carefully glance over his shoulder.

"Yes, sir?" Harry asked as respectfully as he could.

"I told you to turn down the sound," he said. "I won't ask again."

"You can go read in your room," Harry told him. "The Dursleys are gone for now. I'll be fine."

"Just do as I say," Snape snapped, his eyes narrowing at Harry.

With a long-suffering sigh, Harry pushed himself up and grabbed the remote with which he turned down the volume several notches.

_It won't do any good with your bat hearing, though._

Harry resumed the game and kept fighting with the same character, though the computer kept defeating him easily. After about his twentieth defeat, he heard an amused chuckle coming from Snape and turned to glare at him. "Is something funny?" he asked with annoyance.

"Besides the fact that you've been playing this game for what must be hours now and still can't seem to win a single battle?" Snape asked evenly.

"As if you could do any better," Harry quipped.

"I couldn't possibly do any worse," Snape drawled.

Harry snorted. "So prove it," he said haughtily, extending the controller towards Snape. "Go on. Take your pick."

"I needn't prove myself to you," Snape said. "And I have no desire to play those inane games."

Harry smirked. "Yeah, I didn't think so," he said. "You probably wouldn't last two seconds."

"Be mindful of how you speak to me, Potter," Snape said as he carefully turned a page. "I am still your professor."

"Ah, is _that_ it?" Harry teased. "You're afraid of your reputation? The head of Slytherin house can't possibly be known to have played any muggle games." He grinned widely. "Don't worry. I wouldn't tell anyone."

"Nice try, Potter," Snape sighed. "But you are not nearly Slytherin enough for _that_ to work."

"How about this?" Harry said. "You can fight me. And if you win, I will scrub the cauldrons of your first-year classes for a week."

Snape snorted. "There are plenty of misbehaving children at Hogwarts for that particular job to get done without issue, including you," he said. "Why don't you try offering me something that would truly be of interest to me?"

Snape had now closed the book and was looking at Harry with interest. Harry smiled and put his controller down, thinking it over.

_Oh wow, he's actually considering it!_

"Er… I don't know," Harry replied. "I'm not about to quit playing seeker for the Gryffindor team so you can forget about that. Hmm, do you have anything in mind?"

Snape smiled thinly, then held up his hand, palm facing Harry and fingers outstretched. "Five questions," he said. "If I win, you will answer me five questions truthfully, on your honour as a Gryffindor."

Harry narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "What kind of questions?" he asked carefully.

"They can be about anything," Snape said casually. "No subject will be off-limits."

_That sounds like it could be mortifying. No, scratch that. It definitely will be._

"If you, of course, have less faith in your abilities than you let on, we can call this whole thing off right now and I can go back to reading my book."

"And what would I get if _I_ win?" Harry asked defiantly.

"Not a thing," Snape replied. "You are trying to get me to play your game. You can only get me to by playing mine."

Harry thought about that for a second. Sure, he was pretty bad at it but Snape couldn't possibly be any better. The man had probably never seen a console in his life! But he did play some games, even if just for show, when he was pretending to be Dudley. Had he played this game as well? Harry tried to recall the sounds he had heard coming through the wall but didn't know for sure.

Though, Even if he was better than Harry, he would still have been coerced into playing a videogame with him. The absurdity of that alone would lift Harry's spirits easily whenever something bad happened. And something always did. And what questions could he possibly ask that were as mortifying as him finding out about the Dursleys?

"Can you promise me not to talk about my answers to your questions to your precious Slytherins?" Harry asked.

Snape didn't need to think about that. "Of course," he said. "On my honour as a Slytherin." He smirked maliciously.

_He's trying to make me feel uncomfortable on purpose._

Harry snorted. "I'll believe you," he said. "And I accept your terms. How about the first person to win ten times is the winner?"

Snape sighed. "Very well," he conceded. "I accept your challenge."

_If only I could take a picture of this momentous occasion!_

Barely able to contain his excitement, Harry plugged in the second controller and handed it to Snape. With a straight face, Snape accepted the controller and shifted closer to the edge of the sofa, his elbows resting loosely on his knees as he leaned forward a bit. Harry scooted backwards so he was leaning against the couch from his position on the floor.

Harry chose a Japanese warrior this time, wearing traditional armour and swords, figuring that the previous character wasn't doing him any good. Snape chose a character that looked like what muggles thought the devil looked like. Harry snorted. How very predictable.

Suffice to say that Snape slaughtered Harry in the first match. It took him mere seconds to win. Harry was smashing the buttons as much as he could while Snape actually used combo's that Harry hadn't even figured out yet.

_Oh, Merlin, he practised!_

"If you so desire, I would allow you to give up," Snape offered slyly.

"In your dreams," Harry snarled.

"As you wish," Snape replied casually. He selected the devil again and Harry chose a blond woman wearing a Chinese dress. "I very much doubt that she will serve you much better," Snape said.

"Let's just do this," Harry replied.

He lost the second match even faster than he lost the first one. The third match was still a loss but in the fourth one, he won one round after Snape won his, then lost the third round. He was getting frustrated but refused to show it.

"How can you be so good at this?" Harry asked, trying to sound casual. "I know you didn't play Dudley's console _that_ much."

"I thought by now you would have realised, Potter," Snape said haughtily. "I am good at everything I attempt in life because I don't do anything half-heartedly."

_Oh, come on!_

"What kind of answer is that?" Harry sniped.

"Just decide on your character," Snape said. "I am ready for this to be over."

Harry begrudgingly complied, already feeling like he lost. But he was starting to understand how 'Devil' worked. He had this annoying combo that made him float up in the air and shoot a sort of laser beam from his eyes that took away more than half of Harry's life bar. But it had its flaws.

This time, Harry rushed towards 'Devil' as soon as he started flying, evading the attack completely and delivering his own combo from behind as soon as he landed. Match five was Harry's.

"Ha!" he exclaimed. "What do you say to that?!"

"I say that it's still four to one in my favour," Snape said slyly. "Don't count your points before you catch the snitch."

"Say what you will but I'm getting better and you know it!"

"Quite," Snape drawled sardonically. "Your tenacity truly knows no bounds. Now, will you select another character or would you rather bask in this one, and most likely only, victory you have against me?"

_Or in normal people terms. Nicely played. Want to go again?_

"You're on," Harry replied, grinning widely.

Snape switched characters and managed to beat Harry on the sixth and seventh match as well, albeit with more difficulty than at the beginning. When Harry won the eighth match, he punched the air with joy and turned to Snape to smirk at him.

Snape merely raised a sardonic eyebrow. "You realise you're still not winning, don't you?" he pointed out.

"I do," Harry said. "But as you said, I'm tenacious!" Harry's stomach chose that moment to release a loud growl.

Snape snorted. "Tenacity and hunger are not the same thing," he said. "Perhaps eating something will resolve both."

Harry shrugged. He glanced at the table where Petunia left some money with which they were supposed to order take out. Something Harry had rarely done before. But, of course, with Snape's influence, Petunia didn't dare to deny Harry another meal. Not while he was here.

"How does pizza sound to you?" he asked. "Wait, do you even know what pizza is?"

"Potter," Snape growled dangerously. "I am a wizard, not a troglodyte. I know what a pizza is."

_What in the world is a troglodyte?_

"Great!" Harry said. "And how do you like yours?"

"Banished into nothingness," Snape replied simply, leaning back into the couch.

"Oh, come on," Harry said. "Everyone loves pizza! You probably haven't really tried one before, have you?"

Snape merely grunted in response.

Harry took this as compliance. "I'll order us something simple," he announced. When Snape still didn't respond, Harry shrugged and used the phone to order some pizza. It had been years since he last had some and he was really looking forward to it. He ordered two large ones topped with every topping he could get, except for pineapple.

"Pineapple on pizza is evil," Harry explained to Snape after he hung up the phone. "I bet Voldemort eats pineapple on his." He didn't notice Snape flinching slightly.

"I'll ask him next time I see him," Snape said sardonically. "Now, if you would be so kind? I tire of this game and would much like to be done with it."

"If you so desire, I would allow you to give up," Harry said cheekily, throwing Snape's earlier words back in his face.

"Watch yourself, Potter," Snape said, somewhat of a dangerous tone in his voice. "I don't take kindly to your cheek."

_Geez, take a joke, would you?_

"Sorry," Harry mumbled, picking up his controller again.

Snape grunted and did the same.

Harry didn't win any more matches. He could feel Snape's annoyance with the entire situation and was soon trumped quite easily in the last four matches they played. The score was a very sad ten for Snape and two for Harry.

"Wow," Harry said, feeling at least slightly impressed. "You'll have to teach me sometime. You're really good."

"I _already_ teach you, Potter," Snape pointed out. "But _you_ refuse to learn. I don't see how this particularly useless skill would be easier to teach you than the fine art of potion-making."

_So much for trying to be nice! What a bad winner._

Suddenly, Snape's face split into a hideous smile as he steepled his fingers, regarding Harry mischievously. "Now for my prize."

Harry opened his mouth to say something when the doorbell rang. Harry sprung up from the ground, grabbed the money on the table and hurried to the door. He was so hungry! And he was grateful for the reprieve, however small it may be.

He accepted the pizzas, paid for them and accepted the change back (Petunia would kill him if he dared tip the delivery man). Then he set the two cardboard boxes down on the dinner table and grabbed a pair of scissors from the drawer.

Snape moved silently and took a seat across from Harry, watching him divide his pizza into uneven triangles using the scissors. He scoffed.

"What?" Harry asked.

"Plates?" Snape asked. "Utensils? I knew your table manners were atrocious, Potter, but to this extent? Soon you'll be drinking straight from the bottle as well."

"It's pizza," Harry pointed out. "You're _supposed_ to eat it with your hands. You said you knew what it was."

Snape shook his head with disgust, flicked his wand and soon a knife and fork come floating towards him after having escaped the kitchen drawer. "You do whatever you want, Potter," he said coldly, though his tone of voice betrayed that he didn't like where this was heading. "But I will be using utensils. I am, after all, not an animal."

Harry didn't think it wise to point out that humans were animals as well.

"Question one," Snape said as he tried to cut his food to pieces without getting his sleeves dirty. "Why did you brew Polyjuice during your second year?"

Harry groaned. He should have known better than to hope that Snape could be distracted with food. And for that to be the first question he asked!

He's going to kill me before these questions are over. But he had promised to be truthful on his honour as a Gryffindor.

_Being a Slytherin must be so much easier at times like these._

"I wanted to find out if Malfoy was the heir of Slytherin," Harry replied before taking a bite of his pizza. "But, as you know, he wasn't. Though his father did have something to do with the whole 'Chamber of Secrets' thing, so I wasn't that far of."

"A boy is not his father," Snape said absentmindedly. He was staring at the small piece of pizza speared by his fork and seemed to gather his courage before putting it in his mouth. Harry stared at him as he chewed the piece, face expressionless, and swallowed it before shoving the rest of it away from him.

"It is as repulsive as I remember," he told Harry evenly.

_Says the guy drinking the vilest potions he could brew. Though, he probably doesn't test those on himself. I wonder if he ever broke a bone, needing to take Skele-gro? If he knew just how disgusting it was, he might –_

"Question two," Snape said, leaning back in his chair. "Did you steal Gillyweed from my stores last year?"

"No," Harry said truthfully.

Snape narrowed his eyes at him, a glint of confusion in them. Harry felt absolutely smug.

_Ha, didn't see that one coming, did you?_

"Very well," Snape said darkly. "Question three, then."

_Then who did?_ Harry thought, thinking he could guess Snape's next question. But, boy, was he wrong.

"What is the purpose of the cupboard under the stairs?"

"W-What?" Harry sputtered. "What kind of question is that?"

"A personal one," Snape said easily. "I am not deviating from the terms we set beforehand, am I?"

"No," Harry said through gritted teeth.

"I thought not," Snape said. "Now, answer the question. Or is Gryffindor honour not all it's fabled to be?"

"Fine!" Harry shouted. "It was my bedroom, alright? It has been for ten years, right until I got my Hogwarts letter. Now, they only lock me up when they want to punish me."

Snape stared at him for a while, that annoyingly calculating look in his eyes and Harry had to fight the urge to throw a slice of pizza right into Snape's ugly, big-nosed face.

"That's where you were when you disappeared for a few days," he said. It was a statement, not a question. So Harry kept his mouth shut. But Snape seemed to get his answer from Harry's silence and moved on.

"Two more questions, Potter," he said. "And once more, I assure you that whatever you say here remains between us."

_I'll believe that when you prove it._

"Some time ago, you rather casually mentioned something about your uncle drowning you in the tub," Snape said, his voice betraying no emotion. "You made the statement appear as a joke. However, I find that I must know: Did he ever do such a thing?"

"I'm alive, aren't I?" Harry snapped. "So obviously, no, he didn't drown me."

"Potter," Snape said in a warning tone of voice.

Harry's gaze flickered darkly to meet Snape's stoic stare. "He did it a couple of times," Harry confessed. "When he was particularly upset with my accidental magic." He shrugged, trying to make the events come off as nothing out of the ordinary. Making it seem as if they hadn't hurt him to his very core.

Snape nodded, implying that he was satisfied with the response.

Harry stared at his half-eaten pizza. His hunger was gone by now so he closed the cardboard box and pushed it aside much like Snape had done. He allowed himself a drink of water before looking at Snape again, his gaze expectant but his heart somewhat fearful.

"What is your honest opinion of yourself?" Snape asked.

Harry blinked in surprise before furrowing his brow in confusion. He already opened his mouth to respond when Snape held up his hand. "Remember," he warned. "A complete and honest answer."

But what was the honest answer? He was sorted into Gryffindor. The house of the brave and chivalrous. He played seeker for the team and was considered an enormous asset. People liked him. But… that was because he was Harry Potter. People liked him before they even met him. Or, in Snape's case, disliked him for reasons beyond his comprehension. And he was almost sorted into Slytherin. If he hadn't fought the hat, begging it not to place him in Malfoy's house, he would've been a snake himself.

In the end, what people seemed to think of him was far from the truth. There was more to him than the surface Gryffindor he showed to the world. And there was less of him as well. Less than what people expected him to be. He was just Harry. And no one knew Harry.

"I'm a freak," Harry said. "I am one in the muggle world just like I am one in the wizarding world. People look to me for answers while I have none. I'm not particularly smart or strong. I'm nothing special, really. The only thing noteworthy about me is the scar on my forehead and the fact that I bring trouble and danger to everyone around me."

His cold eyes locked onto Snape's, glaring darkly at the man.

How dare he? How dare he ask such a thing?

The table started trembling and the glasses rattled. But Harry ignored them. "I am Harry Potter," he told Snape. "And I hate what that means."

With that statement, he was done. Angrily, he grabbed the cardboard boxes and shoved them in the trash. Then, he took the glasses and started cleaning them in the sink.

"Potter," Snape said.

"Are we done here?" Harry asked. "You got your five answers. And don't worry. I answered them as truthfully as I could."

"I don't doubt it," Snape said coolly.

"If you're not satisfied, that's on you," Harry continued his ramble, his back towards Snape as he was now drying the glasses and Snape's used cutlery with a towel. "You're the one who decided on your questions and I'm not about to fight you again for more."

"Potter," Snape growled, starting to sound annoyed.

"What?!" Harry shouted, slamming the dish towel down without much effect. "What more could you possibly want from me?"

"How about a rematch?" Snape asked casually. "Not for questions, cauldron duty or foregoing the seeker position but rather because I enjoy wiping the floor with you."

Harry's eyes widened and a moment of silence stretched between the two of them, bordering on being uncomfortable. But Snape didn't look away. He merely sat there with his arms crossed, casually leaning on the side of the table.

But then Harry smirked and shook his head, chuckling lightly. "You're on, Professor," he said lightly. "But you're Michelle this time."

But even when Snape was playing with Michelle, Harry didn't stand a chance.

* * *

The last couple of weeks flew by without much of interest happening. Dudley's final arboreal characteristics disappeared with time. In fact, Snape hadn't really done much to expedite the process, thinking it unnecessary to do so. Vernon remained cowed and fearful of Snape. So much so, that he didn't even look at Harry anymore. Petunia had no such reservations. While she fed Harry and Snape properly now and refrained from using any sort of violence with Harry, she still looked at him with disgust and hatred, much as she looked at Snape.

And it was not as if Snape was such a shining ray of sunshine. His obvious resentment of Harry was still present in every snarky comment and every cruel note he wrote on his essays. Though Harry could sometimes catch the man regarding him with a contemplating look, it never lasted long. The strange truth was that the only one who treated him with any kind of friendliness was Dudley. Harry still didn't trust him entirely but as time passed, Harry couldn't help but wonder if Dudley's hospital stay had changed his frame of reference towards magic, and by proxy Harry, for the better.

He had almost gotten away without the Dursleys causing him too much grief. Almost. He had made it to August 31st midday even. But neither he nor Snape had counted on the one common denominator that shaped both of their lives for the worse.

Voldemort.

A little bit after lunch, Snape suddenly hissed loudly, obviously in pain. He grabbed his left forearm tightly as Harry looked at him, horrified. They both knew he had to go. They locked eyes for a second before Snape stormed into the living room where the Dursleys were enjoying a marathon of some sort of inane television show together. Harry followed close behind him as previously instructed.

"I have to step out for a few hours," Snape snarled at them through gritted teeth. "I will return later. If I find out that you so much as harmed one hair on this child's head, I promise you the consequences will be dire."

He didn't wait for a response. He simply stalked out the back door at a brisk pace, slamming the door shut behind him. A few seconds later, Harry heard the sound of a car backfiring. Vernon had paused the show and all four members of the highly dysfunctional family stared at each other.

_Fantastic. I'm dead._

"Where has he gone off to in such a hurry?" Petunia snapped. "I thought you were too _important_ to leave behind."

Vernon snorted. It had been a while since Harry had heard him make any sort of mocking sound but there it was. "Important?" he asked his wife. "Wasn't it clear that even that Snape character doesn't like the freak? Honestly, I'm surprised he hasn't whipped him himself."

"I'm going to my room," Harry mumbled and turned to leave, not about to endure any verbal abuse.

"Sure, run away," Petunia huffed. "You're too afraid to face the damage you caused, aren't you? Or too ashamed, perhaps?"

"I didn't do anything!" Harry said, turning to face his relatives again. "If Uncle Vernon hadn't gone too far, none of this would have happened!"

"It was Dudley who ended up in the hospital so don't you dare pretend to be the victim here," Petunia snarled. "You deserved everything you got and more!"

Anger and indignation washed over Harry as if he was submerged in a vat of them. "I never asked to be left on your doorstep!" he shouted.

"Oh, and we did?" Vernon yelled back. "If that old coot hadn't threatened us to take you in, we would have dropped you at the first orphanage we drove past!"

"How can you be so heartless?" Harry asked. "How can you blame me for things I have no control over? If you're mad at Dumbledore, go yell at him some!"

Petunia laughed cruelly. "Do you _still_ think you're innocent?" she asked darkly. "You're not. Without you, your mother and father would still be alive. And to think that she never even wanted you."

Harry's anger faltered a bit. "What?"

"Oh, yes," Petunia continued plainly. "You weren't planned for. They had big plans, you know. But then _you_ came along and they were forced to settle down."

"You don't know what you're talking about," Harry said shakily. "They were fighting Voldemort. There's no way they were planning on doing anything else."

Petunia scoffed. "Well, now you'll never know for certain, will you?" she said bitterly. "But the way I see it, that murderer only came for you. If you hadn't been there-"

"Exactly!" Vernon interjected. "Just like with that boy you keep whinging about in your sleep."

"It's no wonder Snape hates you, really," Petunia then said. "You hurt people left and right."

"I—I don't mean to," Harry pleaded desperately. "Things just happen!"

But Petunia scoffed. "Pitiful excuse but what more could I expect from you?" she spat. "Mark my words. You'll probably kill someone again, this year. And it will all be because you're an arrogant little freak who thinks the world revolves around him."

"I never thought that!" Harry yelled. His fists were clenched tightly against his legs. Lightbulbs started flickering and windows started clattering. Vernon looked around frantically, putting a hand on Dudley's shoulder in comfort. Dudley seemed to be biting his lip, deeply disturbed by Harry's show of magic. Or was he disturbed by something else?

Petunia, on the other hand, didn't even flinch. She was staring at Harry, deep-seething hatred sculpting every line in her expression. At that moment she saw nothing and no one else but him, but not in the way Harry had always hoped for.

"I hate you," Petunia spat. Harry's eyes widened. He took a step back from the blow of her words. He had always known that his aunt wasn't too fond of him. Hell, he was aware of her obvious dislike. But even when family members disliked one another, they were still supposed to love each other, weren't they? Unconditionally.

He tried to argue, "No, you-"

"Oh, but I do," Petunia retorted harshly. "You are a horrible brat that has tried his best to destroy my life from the moment his shadow coloured my doorstep."

Even Vernon didn't seem to know what to add to the conversation though he didn't seem displeased at all. Dudley, on the other hand, was staring at his mother with wide eyes. In the moment of silence that followed, Harry thought back to all the magical incidents that caused the Dursleys grief. He realised that his aunt might even have good cause to hate him. But he really didn't want her to.

"I'm sorry!" Harry blurted out. "I never meant to! Please –" At that moment, Harry wanted more than anything to make things right with his aunt. She was the last connection he had to his mother. She was someone capable of love. Harry saw it often enough with Dudley. She was the closest thing he had to a mother since Lily died. And she hated him. Harry needed her to love him instead. A little bit would be enough.

_Like one would love a guinea pig._

"Please forgive me," Harry pleaded.

Petunia narrowed his eyes at him. "Forgive you for what?" she asked darkly. "Own up to it, boy."

Harry swallowed thickly. The lights had stopped flickering when his anger had turned into sorrow. The clattering windows had quieted down. His hands trembled so he wrung them together. Petunia was still staring at him unforgivingly. Waiting.

"For hexing Dudley," he said softly. "For doing strange things. For blowing up Aunt Marge –"

Vernon huffed indignantly at that.

"- For – Aunt Petunia, please!"

"Go on," she urged coldly, her arms crossed unrelentingly.

_Why am I doing this? She won't miraculously love me after this._

But Petunia kept staring at him, making Harry feel like a small child again.

Harry took a shuddering breath. "For Uncle Vernon turning into a toad and for… mum and dad."

"What about them?" Petunia urged cruelly.

"I got them killed," Harry whispered.

"What was that?" Petunia asked. "I didn't quite hear you." Harry was sure that she did because the room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. But he didn't want to fight anymore. And he knew the truth. He might as well voice it.

"I'm sorry for getting my parents killed," he said, louder this time.

"That's right," Petunia spat. "You should be. Now go to your room and think about what you've done."

Harry glanced once more time at his uncle, who was sneering at him, and his cousin who stared at his mother in shock. But then he turned away from his relatives, his last chance of a real family, and fled up the stairs and into his small, cluttered room.

He fell to his knees and wrenched open the broken floorboard to take out his photo album. Then he sat cross-legged on his bed and opened the album to a random page. Naturally, it held several pictures of his parents, all smiling up at him, waving as he watched. One of them showed his parents sitting underneath a willow tree, his mother's head resting on his father's shoulder as they looked at something in the distance. While Harry watched, James draped an arm around Lily's shoulder and pulled her nearer to him as he whispered something in her ear. She laughed and looked up at him, meeting his lips in a chaste kiss. And then the whole thing started over.

Gingerly, Harry touched the picture with his index finger. But he could not reach his parents. They didn't know he was watching them.

"I'm sorry," Harry whispered.

Harry didn't know how long he sat there, staring at the parents he would never come to know. He barely registered when Snape came back. Darkness had long settled in when he did and yet Harry kept staring at the pages, his eyes unseeing.

Snape opened the door ever so slightly and peered inside. When he met Harry's troubled gaze he merely stared back for a few more seconds before closing the door again and leaving Harry in peace.

* * *

_I do hope you all liked this chapter. Please do let me know what you all thought. I would really appreciate it. thanks for reading!_


	12. Chapter 12

_Hello everyone and thanks so much for your reviews! I can't believe I've already gotten over 400 from all of you. You guys are the best. Please enjoy this next chapter!_

* * *

**Chapter 12**

Breakfast the next morning was a subdued affair. Harry did nothing more than poke his scrambled eggs with his fork, resulting in an unappetising mess. Snape didn't reprimand him for his lack of manners but kept glancing his way, a look in his eyes that Harry could not quite place.

Petunia had appeared particularly smug that morning, serving Harry and Snape their breakfast with a flourish, clearly happy to have the two wizards out of her house. Vernon simply ignored the two men, sipping his coffee while doing his best not to look at Snape again. It was a real surprise for Harry when he was spoken to at all.

"So, Harry," Dudley said in-between bites. "I hope you'll have a good year."

A loud clatter resounded when Petunia dropped her fork on her plate as she stared at her son with wide eyes. Harry stopped poking through the mess that was supposed to be his breakfast to look at Dudley. The whale of a boy was watching him with something akin to nervousness in his expression. A dab of yellow egg was stuck to the corner of his mouth and he seemed to be attempting a tentative smile.

"I'm sure I will," Harry replied, not ready to voice his concerns. Sure, he was ready for Hogwarts and more than eager to return to that familiar world of magic in which his friends would be waiting for him. But he also knew that with Voldemort back, this year was bound to be even worse than the last ones. The damage Voldemort had managed to cause when he was nothing but a phantom of himself had already been tremendous. And as soon as he had returned to flesh, he had killed Cedric. Whatever he was planning this year, it would not be good. And Harry dared not hope that Voldemort would come to his senses and decide that it was somewhat silly to be going after a specific teenage boy.

Petunia was whispering something quite vigorously in Dudley's ear but the boy didn't seem receptive at all. Instead, he glared at this mother when she was done, offering her no other response. Harry couldn't help but feel a bit better. Despite everything, Dudley seemed to have come around somewhat.

_Maybe I should turn Aunt Petunia into a tree as well. Uncle Vernon is a lost cause, though._

"I will make sure that he stays out of trouble," Snape told Dudley while cutting the crust off his bread. "If not, he will have to serve detention with me." He glared at Harry but there wasn't much bite behind it.

"Good luck with that," Harry muttered, referring to Voldemort's expected interference but Snape seemed to interpret it differently.

"Don't start with me, Potter," he said. "If I must, I will confiscate that blasted cloak of yours."

_Wonderful. Cut my chances against that snake in half, why don't you?_

"I'll do my best not to get murdered, sir," Harry replied snarkily.

"M-murdered?" Stammered Dudley.

"Don't think for one moment that that will get you out of handing in your homework," Snape retorted casually.

Harry chuckled. "I didn't expect so."

_Wait. Did Snape joke around with me, just now?_

"Eat something, Potter," Snape then urged. "You won't be on the train so you won't be able to fill up on sweets."

"What?" Harry asked. "Why not?"

"Have you forgotten about the Dark Lord?" Snape asked, raising one sardonic eyebrow. "More than ever, travelling is dangerous for you."

"What about all the other students?" Harry asked, his temper rising.

"They will be relatively safe," Snape replied calmly. "I informed the Dark Lord that you will not be taking the train because you are already at Hogwarts. Now, should you end up taking the train anyway, word might get to him and you can imagine how that would end for me."

Harry slouched in his seat. "Badly," he said. "But you could have said something. I haven't been able to warn Ron and Hermione."

"And that's how it should be," Snape pointed out. "It's better if everyone believes your 'early return' to Hogwarts to be coincidental. And that includes your friends."

"You have an answer for everything, don't you?" Harry murmured.

"The result of thinking things through beforehand, unlike a certain Gryffindor I know."

_There! That sounded like banter as well._

Dudley still seemed rather stunned at the mention of possible murder while Vernon and Petunia did their best to ignore the two wizards. Harry, in turn, ignored their occasional glances his way.

"Then how will we be travelling, sir?" Harry asked, pushing his plate aside. Snape raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything more about his lack of appetite.

"We will be apparating," Snape said before draining a glass of orange juice. "The floo network might be monitored. Especially now."

"We used the floo just fine last time," Harry pointed out.

Snape sighed. "Honestly, Potter," he said. "Use that brain of yours for once and think. We used the floo last time out of necessity. Surely you remember the state you were in."

Harry glanced at his uncle who seemed to be deciding between hiding underneath the table and bristling with anger. For the first time during Snape's stay, he seemed to choose the more Gryffindor approach and stared Snape right in the face, his own red and bloated.

"Now see here," he told Snape, careful not to come too close, though. "You know as well as we do that this brat is nothing but trouble. You've said so yourself!"

"Vernon," Petunia warned.

"Are you saying, Dursley, that your treatment of the boy was warranted?" Snape asked silkily.

Vernon seemed to falter for a moment. He glanced at Petunia but the slight shake of her head didn't stop him. Instead, her fear-filled expression seemed to egg him on even more.

"I should say so," Vernon then replied. Harry almost groaned in the face of his uncle's stupidity but managed to stop himself. "He's a menace that has a severe lack of discipline. If we don't punish him appropriately, he will end up as even more of a delinquent than he already is."

"Is that so?" Snape purred. His voice almost sounded pleasant but Harry recognised the dangerous tone behind it. It was the same one he used in class when someone was about to get into a heap of trouble. Usually Neville or Harry himself. "And this appropriate punishment of yours includes beating your nephew within an inch of his life, does it?"

Vernon's moustache twitched comically as he seemed to think that over.

"He didn't mean to do that," Petunia replied in his stead. "He hadn't meant to go that far. He never has before! The boy just made him so angry."

"Ah," Snape said easily. "That makes it understandable, I suppose?"

_Oh God, why are they so stupid?_

"Maybe we should just go, sir," Harry urged, not in the mood to see this turn into a bloodbath.

"Just a moment, Mr Potter, I'm rather intrigued by your uncle's pedagogic expertise," Snape answered easily. Harry did not like the smirk on his face. "So tell me, Dursley, would you agree with me using on your dear son the same kind of punishment you subjected your nephew to?"

Dudley squeaked and tried to get up but Snape was faster. One flick of his wand had Dudley affixed to his chair and the chair to the ground.

"Dad, stop it!" Dudley yelled.

"Professor," Harry urged again, a bit more desperately this time. "Please leave it. You're not supposed to –" A firm glare shut Harry up quite effectively.

"If Dudley ever behaved like the hooligan that freak is, then yes. I just might," Vernon spat.

"And how would you classify attempted murder?" Snape asked, fiddling with his wand.

"Enough!" Petunia screeched. "Snape, you can threaten us all you want but I swear. If you so much as lay a finger on us, the boy will not be allowed back here. Ever!"

Snape got up so fast that his chair clattered to the ground. "You dare!" Snape exclaimed. Despite her bravado, Petunia did shrink back some.

"Sir," Harry tried again, not knowing how to finish that sentence.

Snape's gaze swept across the room. He looked at the Dursleys, taking in the quivering mess he had reduced Dudley to and ended up staring at Harry with those piercing eyes.

_Don't look at _me_! I wasn't the one who provoked them like Malfoy did Buckbeak._

"I don't know what happened here while I was gone," Snape growled. "But something did."

"We didn't touch him," Petunia said haughtily. "Not a hair on his head, as you said."

"Mr Potter," Snape hissed. "Care to inform me why you've been in such a sullen mood this morning? I would hate to leave this place without repaying your relatives for their… wonderful care."

_Yeah, like I would definitely like to rehash that conversation in front of my aunt._

Harry glanced at Petunia who stood there with pursed lips and crossed arms before looking Snape resolutely in the eye.

"Nothing happened that's worth mentioning," he said. "Now, can we please just go? I've had it with this place."

"A sentiment we share," Snape replied. "As you wish. Go ahead and get your things."

"Yes sir," Harry said.

_Don't maim them while I'm gone._

Harry hurried up the stairs, grabbed his pre-packed trunk and owl cage and hurried back downstairs. It had taken him only a minute tops but when he returned to the kitchen, he saw the Dursleys cowering away from Snape, their faces blanched and barely daring to breathe. Snape looked entirely too smug.

"Ready?" he asked when Harry had come back up, not even bothering to look at him.

_No, I came back down because I needed you to help me pack my boxers._

"Yes, sir," Harry replied rather than voicing his sardonic thoughts. The sooner they got out of there, the better. Harry met Dudley's eye one last time and smiled very lightly. Dudley swallowed and returned the sentiment equally half-heartedly. He didn't look at his aunt and uncle anymore, though. If he did, he might just start screaming at them himself.

_Snape might even let me._

Together, they walked outside. Harry was lugging his heavy trunk behind him as he followed Snape into an abandoned alley. After making sure that no muggles were near, Snape extended his arm.

"Grab hold, Potter," he said, frustration still evident in his voice. "And don't let go of either me or your trunk."

Harry really didn't want to touch Snape in any way. But he knew that he had to. He half expected the man's body temperature to mimic that of a snake or salamander, cold-blooded as he was. But he was warm, just like any other human being would be.

And then he experienced the feeling of being pushed through a much too tight tube. The world around him collapsed and he did his best to hold on tight to Snape's arm. Much tighter, in fact, then he had been at first.

And then they arrived at the gates of Hogwarts. Harry stumbled a bit when they landed but managed to keep himself upright. His stomach was churning awfully and he was suddenly very happy that he hadn't eaten that morning.

While the sun had been shining back in Surrey, Hogwarts was surrounded by the typically dreary Scotland weather. The sky was grey and even though it wasn't raining, Harry knew that would only be a matter of time.

"Come," Snape ordered. He flicked his wand once and Harry was aware of his trunk becoming much lighter. "We have no time to waste."

_You're the one who insisted on picking a fight with my relatives, you great big git._

Harry followed close behind Snape, needing to jog somewhat to keep up with the Potions Master's long, urgent strides.

"What happened after I… left, Potter?" Snape asked.

Harry snorted. "Why were you summoned, sir?" he asked in exactly the same tone as Snape had used.

Snape shot Harry a withering glare. "I cannot and will not divulge that information to you," he replied icily.

"Nothing happened," Harry then replied.

_I won't tell if you won't._

Suddenly Snape stopped so brusquely that Harry collided with his back, stumbling backwards to regain his footing. Without turning around, Snape spoke again. "Potter," he said. "I am not your enemy."

_Could have fooled me._

Now he turned around. "Something happened while I was gone. Something that clearly has you out of sorts."

"It was nothing I'm not used to," Harry said in a low voice. But that wasn't exactly true, was it? While the Dursleys had been decidedly cruel in the past, Petunia cutting with words while Vernon simply cut him, no one had ever made him admit to and apologise for the deaths he had caused. Petunia had never before voiced so clearly why it was that she hated him.

And how could he not understand her? He killed her sister. He hurt her son. He knew now that he would never be able to earn her love, no matter how hard he tried. Because there was simply no way to get back those he lost. Those she lost.

"Potter!"

Harry snapped out of his reveries at the sound of Snape's harsh voice. The man sighed and Harry wondered about that. It wasn't in the man's character to show any outward sign of an emotion besides anger and sadistic joy. And right now, he seemed more exasperated than anything.

"You weren't listening to a word I said, were you?" he asked.

"I'm sorry," Harry said. "I'm just tired."

"You would be after being up so late, wouldn't you?" Snape pointed out rather icily.

"I couldn't sleep," Harry replied. He was tired of this conversation and where it was headed so he moved past Snape and started walking forward. It wasn't as if he would be unable to find the great big castle. But Snape was quick to catch up and was walking next to him within seconds.

"And so we touch upon this subject once more," Snape said as they walked.

_Leave me alone._

"Why couldn't you sleep?"

"Hogwarts jitters," Harry deadpanned.

"Hogwarts jitters had you staying up until the dead of night, sitting in the dark while staring at what I can only assume was a photo book?" Snape asked.

"Leave me alone!" Harry shouted. "What's it to you what I do at night? It doesn't matter, all right? Nothing happened! They didn't hurt me while you were gone. Did you want me to undress so you can check me for injuries?! Or will you finally take my word for it?"

They had stopped walking. And Snape was standing there, infuriatingly calm, with his arms crossed as he patiently waited for Harry to finish his rant. Harry's arms were flailing in desperate attempts to accentuate his screamed words.

"It's not like you even care so don't, even for one second, pretend that you do! All you care about is the cause! That's all anyone ever cares about!"

Harry was breathing harshly. He pressed both palms of his fists to his forehead, clenching his eyes shut. He didn't want to do this. He didn't want to talk to Snape about any of this. He just wanted to pretend that everything was alright.

A sigh that wasn't his. The clinking of potion vials. The feeling of a warm hand on his wrist.

Harry lowered his arms and opened his eyes only to stare at a potion.

"Drink this," Snape told him.

Harry frowned suspiciously. "What is it?" he asked, his voice still trembling with suppressed rage.

Snape scoffed. "I had hoped that you would recognise a calming draught by now, Potter," he said but there was no bite to his words. "If you need help remembering the effects of said draught, it's in the name. It will calm you down."

_Git._

But Harry took the blue potion, sniffed it and finally downed it in one big gulp. It calmed him down immediately, effectively pushing the anger back down.

Snape accepted the empty potion vial and placed it back into his inner robe. Harry vaguely wondered just how many potions the man had on him. He probably carried ingredients around as well. Maybe that's why he vaguely smelled of herbs and spices. Harry was especially able to make out the cinnamon and cloves. It was a nice smell, really. Not as chemical as Petunia's perfume and not as overbearing as Vernon's cologne.

The first raindrops fell from the sky, one of them splattering on Harry's nose. But neither Snape nor Harry made a move.

"Now," Snape then spoke, capturing Harry's gaze fiercely. "While I imagine that I am the last person you wish to discuss this with, I know for a fact that you were hurt last night."

Harry scoffed and looked away.

"Hurt is more than just the physical," Snape said. "And though you've had your fair share of the physical version, I've noticed some of the other kind seep out every now and then."

Harry cringed. _Stop talking_. The rain began to pour a bit more heavily.

"You seemed rather used to being called a freak. A waste of space. I don't believe I've ever heard _them_ address you with your name."

_Keen observation skills, Snape. Now drop it._

"But whatever they said to you last night; you were not, as you say, used to."

"Even the Dursleys can be original from time to time," Harry replied easily. He looked at Snape again, trying to ignore the raindrops that splattered against his glasses, blurring his vision.

"They are vermin," Snape then said resolutely.

_They're all I have._

"You would do well not to dwell on what they said."

"Sticks and stones," Harry murmured.

"A rather ridiculous proverb even when not taking into account that words in the wizarding world can equate to spells that most definitely _can_ harm you," Snape replied. Harry noticed that the man was getting soaked. "But even in the muggle world, I know the kind of damage words can cause."

From the flicker of pain that flashed in Harry's eyes, no matter how brief it was, Harry knew that the man wasn't lying. He _did_ know.

There was a very long moment of silence that stretched between the two wizards as they gauged each other. This time, Harry was the first to speak again.

"I'm sorry, sir," Harry said. "I shouldn't have yelled at you."

"No," Snape agreed. "You shouldn't have. But seeing how the term hasn't officially started yet, I can't take points or assign detention."

Harry blinked. Snape wasn't even going to punish him for his outburst? "Sir?"

"Come along now, Potter," Snape said. "I am not enjoying this weather we're having very much and I imagine that you don't want to end up sick on your first night back."

They started walking again, Harry feeling a bit more relaxed than he had before and Snape slowing down his stride somewhat so Harry could follow him more easily.

"You probably have some pepper-up in those deep pockets of yours, don't you?" Harry chuckled.

Snape raised one eyebrow and Harry imagined that for a moment, he smiled. With all that rain it was hard to tell, though.

"Indeed I do," Snape replied.

"Why do you carry so many potions with you?" Harry asked curiously.

Snape snorted. "It astounds me that you believe to be able to distract me from your current state of mind with such a Gryffindorish attempt at diversion," he drawled.

"I thought we were done," Harry mumbled.

"You thought wrong," Snape said resolutely. "You have not yet informed me of what exactly transpired in your home."

Harry looked at Snape strangely. "You don't honestly believe that I'll be telling you, do you?" Harry asked him. "What with your temper, you're likely to blow up Surrey!"

They now ascended the stairs leading up to the large door. Snape pushed it open, then turned to look at Harry. "That's a rather odd observation on your part, Potter," he said evenly. "What makes you think I care enough to do so. Even if I indeed had the power to blow up an entire county, which I most certainly do not, mind you."

Harry walked past Snape, ducking underneath his outstretched arm with which he still held the door open. "Aunt Petunia certainly seemed to get under your skin," Harry said as he watched a small pool of water and mud start to form where he stood.

_Filch is going to have my head for this._

"She most certainly did not," Snape denied rather harshly.

"I know, I know," Harry said, holding his hands up in mock defence. "Don't ask."

Snape sighed. "Follow me," he said, beckoning Harry with one long index finger as he turned and walked into the Great Hall. It would be several more hours before the train arrived in Hogsmeade so now they found the place completely empty. Harry obeyed and followed Snape as he swept over to the staff table, his robes no longer billowing behind him because of the rainwater they had absorbed.

When Snape sat down in his usual seat, Harry stopped and frowned at him. "Sir?"

"Don't be difficult, Potter," Snape said. "Have a seat."

Harry glanced towards the Gryffindor table over his shoulder when Snape sighed and forcefully pulled a chair from underneath the staff table. One that was two seats to his right.

Getting his intention but still not trusting it very much, Harry sat down very carefully in the seat Snape had offered. When the chair didn't jump back or grab hold of him somehow, Harry relaxed. Snape took out his wand but before Harry was able to grab his own, he had already flicked it. A warm breeze engulfed Harry for a moment and when it disappeared, Harry was dry. Snape did the same to himself before leaning back. He snapped his fingers and a house-elf appeared.

"How may Binky assist Professor Snape, sir?" the elf asked.

"Tea and sandwiches, I think," Snape said resolutely. The elf bowed and disappeared. Only a moment later did the ordered food items arrive.

Harry watched in amazement how Snape shoved one of the cups in Harry's direction, filled his own and then handed Harry the pot.

When Harry accepted it but didn't pour the tea, Snape sneered. "I assure you that the elves are not able to poison any food they send up," he said. He added cream but no sugar and stirred the beverage with a spoon. Harry carefully filled his own cup and reached for the sugar.

"Eat," Snape ordered

"We just had breakfast," Harry objected.

"No, _I_ just had breakfast," Snape corrected icily. "_You_ merely played with your food, youR fork not once making contact with your mouth."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I'm just not hungry, all right?" he said.

"As you wish, Mr Potter," Snape drawled. "They'll be here when you change your mind. Now, why were you still up when I got home last night?"

"Maybe I was worried about you," Harry replied sweetly.

Snape snorted into his tea. "Very amusing," he said. "But it'll take more than that to break through the metaphorical shield charm. Now, the truth, please."

"I couldn't sleep," Harry then replied.

"Clearly," Snape said, his voice a bit tighter than before. "And why couldn't you sleep?" His voice then took on a deeper tone that Harry really didn't like. "Nightmares?"

"No no no," Harry protested vehemently. Snape already knew he had nightmares but the last thing he wanted to do was discuss those as well. "I hadn't even fallen asleep yet. I was looking at some photographs and lost track of time."

"In the dark?" Snape pointed out. "It's no wonder your eyesight is so bad, Potter."

"I'm pretty sure it's been bad my entire life," Harry retorted. "It's probably genetic."

Snape narrowed his eyes at him for a mere second before averting his gaze to stare at his tea. "We're getting nowhere speaking like this," Snape then said. "And I imagine that much of that has to do with our difficult relationship."

_Ding ding ding. One hundred points to Slytherin._

"Be that as it may, you are clearly distressed. Might you consider speaking with the headmaster?"

Harry laughed bitterly. "The man who won't listen to me even when there's evidence of what the Dursleys did?" he spat. "No, thanks."

"Hagrid, perhaps?" Snape offered.

Harry shook his head. "That would mean explaining things I don't want him to know."

Snape growled in frustration. "Who, then?"

"I don't need to talk to anyone, sir," Harry said. "I don't know why you think I do but I don't. And I'd appreciate it if you didn't go and talk to people in my stead, either."

Snape refilled his and Harry's cup before pushing the plate of food just a few inches closer to Harry.

"Fine," Snape said. "I'll be frank with you, then. You. Are. Not. Fine."

Harry opened his mouth to object but Snape raised his hand to stop him. "Your relatives hurt you and they did so in more than one way. They beat you within an inch of your life, they talked you into believing you're a freak and they locked you in a cupboard for Merlin's sake – yes, Potter, I didn't forget that little fact you let slip before. I can see you retreating within yourself and quite frankly, that probably has a lot to do with that dream you had of the Dark Lord a few weeks ago. If you _don't_ deal with this, you will only get worse."

"I've been dealing with things alone my entire life," Harry said somewhat angrily. That calming draught from before seemed to be wearing off.

"Have you?" Snape asked, that infernal eyebrow raised in question. "Because what I see is someone who is plagued with nightmares, guilt and low self-esteem."

Harry snorted. "What happened to the Harry Potter who is spoiled and arrogant?"

Snape carefully regarded him for a moment before replying, "I've been wondering the same thing."

He rose from his seat with a tired huff and retrieved another potion from within his robe, setting it in front of Harry.

"Eat," he said again, this time less coldly. "And drink the pepper-up. I won't have you be sick in your first Potions class. Oh, and Potter? Think about what I've said."

He didn't wait for a reply. He turned on his heel and swept out of the Great Hall, his robes billowing behind him.

Harry stared at his retreating back and waited for the door to close before picking up one of the sandwiches. After staring at it for a ridiculously long time, he took a bite.

It tasted delicious.

* * *

_**A/N:** Unfortunately I've fallen a bit behind on my writing since I've been catching up on Boruto (I love it so much!). So don't shoot me but the next update is planned for Friday rather than Tuesday. Please don't neglect to leave me a review!_

_**Guest reply**: One of my guest reviewers asked for some writing tips. I'm afraid that I don't have anything clear cut to tell you. I am not someone who follows a lot of the rules and expectations one would have for good writing. (For example, I do end some sentences with prepositions.) and I still don't think I get all my punctuation right. When you check out my earliest work on this site (do so witth caution) you will see that I didn't start out as the writer I am today. The only advice I can give you is to read a lot. And I mean a whole lot! And start writing! Even when you expect it's not good. Practice - as they say - makes perfect. Yes, you will make mistakes but that's all part of the process. Work on the things you think you're bad at (I started out TPA thinking my dialogue skills were subpar) and don't be afraid to try out new things (Harry's internal monologue has been really gratifying to write). Just don't give up and keep going. It takes work and dedication but when one is as excited about a fandom as I am, that dedication is easy to come by. I hope that somewhat answers your question._

_See you guys on Friday!_


	13. Chapter 13

_Oh dear. I'm uploading the thirteenth chapter on Friday the thirteenth. *nervous chuckle* It will be alright, right? In any case, thank you all so much for your continued support. I love getting those wonderful reviews of yours. Thanks for keeping me motivated!_

* * *

**Chapter 13**

There was only an hour left before the train would arrive in Hogsmeade. Harry sat expectantly in the Great Hall. He had nowhere else to go since he didn't know the password to Gryffindor tower and he hadn't seen McGonagall yet so she couldn't give it to him either. The library might have been an option but Harry had had quite enough of books at that point. His hand still ached with phantom pains when he remembered just how often he had needed to rewrite his potions essay.

The house-elves had been nice enough to provide Harry with as much tea and hot cocoa he wanted. He played with the snitch Ron had given him for his birthday. With no one in the Great Hall, it was rather fun to chase that tiny golden ball, relying on nothing but sound when he lost track of it. But soon, he wasn't alone anymore.

A short, stocky woman dressed entirely in pink entered the Great Hall with an arrogant smile on her face. Her chin was tilted high and she stopped in the entrance, breathing in deeply as if savouring her presence there. Harry frowned as he stared at her. Whoever she was, she didn't appear to have noticed him yet.

_Damn, she looks like some sort of wedding cake!_

And then her little eyes narrowed when she spotted Harry standing near the Slytherin table where his snitch had flown off to.

"Oh my," she said in a sickly sweet voice. "A student in the Great Hall at this hour? Shouldn't you be on the train, dear?"

Harry shivered involuntarily when the woman spoke. It was a bit unfair of him to judge someone when she had hardly spoken a word but he couldn't help himself. He didn't like her.

"Other arrangements were made for me, ma'am," he replied with a shrug. "It wasn't safe for me to take the train."

The woman's eyes flittered to his scar for one second before she looked him in the eye again, smiling kindly. "But of course," she said. "It wouldn't do for the boy-who-lived to be harmed in any way, would it?"

Harry frowned but said nothing.

"No, I thought not," the woman continued. "Never mind the other children, right? It's not as if they ever defeated a dark wizard wielding nothing but luck."

_Oh, I definitely don't like her._

He still didn't say anything, worried that he might set her off or something. She seemed like the kind of person that would explode at the smallest wrongdoing. Instead, he grabbed his snitch and made to leave.

"Oh, but where are your manners, young man?" the woman asked, still sickly sweet. "Surely you know that you should respond when your elders address you?"

"I do," Harry said evenly.

The woman tilted her head to the side, probably thinking she looked cute doing so. "I see that you might have a bit of an attitude problem," she said. "The minister warned me of that already, of course. He and I are quite close, you see?"

Harry snorted and the woman glared at him.

"Yes," she then said. "Something tells me that you and I will be seeing a lot of each other this year."

_Ugh. Don't tell me that she's the new defence teacher._

"And why is that, ma'am?" Harry asked dryly.

"Well," she said. "Since I'm your new teacher, I will try and rein in that obvious temper of yours as well as your attitude problem. You won't get far in life when treating your superiors in the manner you are, you see?"

"I don't have an attitude problem," Harry said through gritted teeth.

"Dolores!" a new voice then spoke. McGonagall appeared in the entrance, staring down at the short woman with a very stern expression. Harry breathed a sigh of relief.

"Ah, Minerva," Dolores said. "How good of you to come. I understand that this boy was sorted into your house?"

McGonagall glanced at Harry, a silent warning in her eyes. "That is correct," she drawled.

"Ah," Dolores said gleefully. "Then I must inform you that he is rather rude. He clearly has no respect for adults."

"That's odd," McGonagall replied thoughtfully. "He always pays me the utmost respect."

Dolores bristled and crossed her arms. "Well," she huffed. "You would do well to teach him to do me the same courtesy. I have half a mind to assign him a detention."

_What the bloody hell? I didn't even do anything!_

"Since the term hasn't officially started yet, I'm afraid that's not an option," McGonagall said easily.

Dolores scoffed. "Very well," she said. "I'll let you off with a warning this time, Mr Potter," she snarled. "Make sure that you correct your attitude by the next time we meet." And then she turned on her heel and walked towards the high table, her heels clicking loudly in the empty hall.

"I didn't do anything," Harry hissed when she was out of earshot. "I swear, Professor, I –"

"Be that as it may, Potter," McGonagall said softly, "you would do well to be careful of what you say and do around that woman. I'm sorry that I have to ask this of you but lay low." She put an encouraging hand on his shoulder. "And don't worry too much. She'll be around for one year at the most." She winked at Harry and he managed a small smile in return.

* * *

It was an hour and a half later that the students finally started filling in the Great Hall. Harry – who was already seated at the Gryffindor table – motioned towards Ron and Hermione who went to sit with him as soon as they saw him.

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed before engulfing him in a warm hug. "You weren't on the train!"

"Yeah," Ron interjected. "We thought you missed it or something. Or that those muggles didn't want you to come back this year."

"It was a security matter," Harry told them quietly. "Dumbledore was afraid that Voldemort might attack the train if I was on it."

"See?" Hermione told Ron haughtily. "I told you it was something like that."

"Way to go, genius," Ron said sardonically. "No one else could've possibly figured out that the-boy-who-lived might be granted extra protection."

"Hey!" Harry protested. "Don't call me that!"

"Sorry, mate," Ron apologised. "I'm a bit frustrated. Sorry about that."

Harry raised an eyebrow in question. "Why?" he asked. "What happened?"

"Malfoy happened," Ron growled. "That's what."

"Actually," Hermione added, "nothing really happened. That's why he's so annoyed. Ron bumped into him on the train – very much on purpose I would say – and Malfoy… well-"

"He didn't even react!" Ron exclaimed. "Acted like I wasn't even there. Like I was worth less than the dirt stuck to the bottom of his shoe."

"I'm sure it wasn't like that, Ron," Hermione sighed. "He seemed to be deep in thought."

Ron scoffed. "Sure, take _his_ side!"

"Guys!" Harry interrupted. "could you please not fight? I haven't seen you in ages and hardly heard from you at all. So let's not discuss Malfoy, alright?"

"Fair enough," Ron said. "Now, where's the food?"

Hermione sighed. "The sorting comes first," she reminded him. "And then the introduction of the new defence teacher."

Harry snorted. "Yeah, she seemed like a hoot."

"What do you mean?" Ron asked, frowning. He looked at the staff table and smirked when he saw the newest addition to the staff. "is it her?" he asked, thoroughly amused. "That pink pastry is going to be our new defence teacher? She looks like she would be done in by one well-aimed bat-bogey hex."

"I don't know," Harry said carefully. "There's something odd about her. I think we have to be careful. McGonagall told me as much, already."

"She did?" Hermione asked, frowning. Harry knew that she would always listen to a teacher but when said teacher was clearly opposed to another, that made matters a whole lot more difficult.

"We'll see what happens," Harry told her. "I'll just try not to antagonise her too much and we'll be fine."

_Though I already made her mad._

They didn't get much more time to reminisce and speculate since that was the moment McGonagall brought in the first years. Much like every year, Harry stared at them and wondered if he was ever really that small. The hat sang his trademark song and soon, the first student was seated on the simple stool and the hat placed on his head.

As always, the children seemed to be divided rather equally among the four houses. They all seemed so innocent and happy to be there. Even the Slytherins stared at the older students in awe. They were, after all, just kids themselves, not yet shaped by their houses. It would take a week at most for that to change.

Harry clapped dutifully each time a new Gryffindor joined their table and watched Snape a few times when a new Slytherin was added to his house. He couldn't detect any emotion from the man, though he clapped every time his house was chosen, albeit it without much vigour behind it.

"Why do you keep staring at Professor Snape?" Hermione asked, perceptive as always.

"I'm not," Harry objected.

_Just trying to find out if anything changed. If he's going to say anything._

"And why is Dumbledore staring at you?" Ron added.

"What?" Harry shifted his gaze slightly to look at Dumbledore. The man was indeed watching him and when they locked gazes, he was overcome with a vibrant fury he had not often experienced in his life. This man had condemned him to live with the Dursleys even after knowing full well what went on in that house. Dumbledore didn't care about him. He only cared about 'the greater good' no matter how much that would affect a boy who lost his parents to a madman.

Dumbledore looked away and Harry regained control of his emotions. It didn't matter anymore, did it? The damage was done and by now the amount of time he still needed to spend with the Dursleys was so little that he might as well just accept his fate.

"That reminds me," Ron said. "Was it Dumbledore that came and got you?"

Harry frowned. "Got me?" he asked. "What do you mean?"

"Well, who came and got you since you weren't allowed to take the train?" Hermione interjected.

"Oh," Harry said, finally understanding. "It was Professor Snape. He apparated us here."

Ron gasped so loudly that everyone in their direct vicinity turned their heads to look at them. "What?" he hissed. "You've got to be kidding me! No wonder you're so gloomy!"

_Damn, and here I thought I was hiding that rather well._

"I'm not gloomy, Ron," Harry said grumpily. "I'm just hungry."

Before either of his friends could open their mouths to respond, Dumbledore rose from his seat to make the annual announcements. Harry hadn't even noticed that the sorting had ended. The warnings were the same as always and as expected, the toad in pink was introduced as their new Defence teacher. Dolores Umbridge was her name and judging by the looks on the teachers' faces, she was not a welcome addition to the staff.

Dumbledore clearly tried to gloss over the new addition but Umbridge had different ideas.

"Hem hem."

The entire student body looked at her in disbelief and shock when she interrupted the headmaster. Even Dumbledore himself seemed somewhat taken aback but he stepped aside and allowed Umbridge to speak.

"Thank you, Headmaster, for those kind words of welcome," she said. "And how lovely to see all your bright happy faces smiling up at me. I'm sure we're all going to be very good friends."

"That's likely," Fred and George said sardonically. Harry suppressed a chuckle.

"The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizard of vital importance. Although each Headmaster has brought something new to this historic school," she looked pointedly at Dumbledore in a manner that wasn't exactly well-meant, "progress for the sake of progress must be discouraged. Let us preserve what must be preserved, perfect what can be perfected and prune practices that ought to be prohibited. Furthermore, I would hope sincerely that all students abide by the school rules set for their own protection. Transgressions would be very inconsiderate towards your hard-working Professors."

When Dumbledore thanked Umbridge for her ridiculous little speech, Harry was already zoning out, frowning at the empty table in front of him.

"She gives me the creeps," Ron whispered to his comrades.

Hermione's expression was thoughtful. "For once, Ron," she said, "I actually agree with you."

Food appeared out of nowhere and Harry could hear a few first years squeal in surprise. While still fascinated by the magic of this place, he was no longer astounded and simply grabbed a piece of bread that had so kindly appeared right in front of him.

* * *

The very first Defence class of the year was quite the experience. Harry hadn't slept very well that night. He knew he hadn't made any noise since he hadn't woken up any of his dorm mates but that hadn't made the nightmare any less real.

And Defence class was, in one word, boring. Even more so than History had been. When Umbridge had ordered everyone to put their wands away and take out quill and parchment, Harry had shared some befuddled looks with some of his classmates. For a moment, he expected a pop quiz. Unfortunately, that hadn't been Umbridge's intention at all.

"You will not be needing your wands in my class," she had explained. "It is far more useful for all of you to learn the theory behind the defensive spells rather than practice them without a solid base."

Harry frowned. "But if we won't practice them, how will we be able to defend ourselves?" he asked angrily.

Umbridge ignored him. "Students will raise their hands before asking a question," she said sweetly. Harry bristled and raised his hand rather violently. Umbridge smiled and turned to look at him. "Yes?" she asked, acting as if she hadn't heard his earlier question.

_I swear I'm going to hex this woman before the year is over._

"Why won't we learn how to defend ourselves?" he asked, trying to stay calm.

"Mr Potter," Umbridge said, sighing dramatically. "Do you expect to be attacked in my class?"

Harry wanted to get annoyed with her. He wanted to tell her that, no, of course, that's not what he meant. That he wanted to be prepared against Voldemort and his foul minions. But for some reason, his mouth had other plans.

"Yes," he said. "Absolutely."

Umbridge seemed slightly taken aback. "Excuse me?" she asked, her voice a bit smaller.

"Let's take a look at the facts, shall we?" Harry said angrily. "First year, my defence teacher was housing Voldemort in the back of his head and tried to kill me by the end of the year."

Umbridge paled considerably at the mention of Voldemort's name, her lips clenching tightly.

"Second year," Harry continued, his voice starting to sound less angry and more controlled. "He didn't exactly try to kill me but Lockhart did try to wipe my brain and land me in St Mungo's for the rest of my life."

A few people chuckled and Umbridge looked very angry. "Mr Potter –"

"Third year," Harry said casually, ignoring Umbridge completely. "Okay, so he didn't actually intend to, but our Defence teacher turned into a werewolf and tried to kill me or at least horribly maim me."

"I hardly think –"

"And last year," Harry then said. "Our Defence teacher was actually a death eater in disguise who forced me to be in the Triwizard tournament and delivered me to Voldemort by the end of it. He actually very nearly succeed in killing me."

Umbridge was red with anger and Harry knew that he should shut up but he just couldn't.

"The way I see it, you have a fifty per cent chance of being affiliated with Voldemort in some way; seventy-five per cent chance to try and kill me or have me killed and one hundred per cent chance to actually attack me in some way or another," he deadpanned. "So when you ask me, Professor, if I expect to be attacked in this class, I can honestly tell you that, yes, yes I do."

The entire class had fallen silent. The only thing anyone could hear was the angry and harsh breathing of Dolores Umbridge. She kept straightening her pink cardigan as if she didn't know what to do with her hands, her eyes locked on Harry.

"How dare you?" she asked, her voice soft but dangerous. "How dare you accuse me or any of your other teachers of such things? Everyone knows that you're nothing but a filthy liar, Mr Potter."

"I'm not lying!" Harry exclaimed.

"Yes you are," Umbridge countered. "You-know-who has not returned in your fourth year, no matter what you tell people. No teacher has ever endangered you as you claim and I am, quite honestly, appalled that you would expect me to do you harm."

"Voldemort _has_ returned, though," Harry said.

_Shut up. Shut up. Shut up!_

"Just because some people choose to stick their heads in the sand, doesn't make this any less true."

_McGonagall told me to stay low! She's going to have my head for this._

"One hundred points from Gryffindor!" Umbridge screeched angrily.

_And there you have it._

"And you will join me in detention this evening, Mr Potter," she added. "I will make sure that no such lies ever cross your lips again."

* * *

It took mere hours for Harry's outburst to become the stuff of legends. Every time Ron told the story, he added another outrageous detail. According to his latest version, Harry had demanded to see her left forearm which Umbridge had absolutely refused to show him. Fred and George were already making shirts and badges that read '_Potter VS Pink'_ and were making quite a profit in selling those. Harry wasn't exactly happy with the extra attention but was relieved that people weren't focusing on what the prophet had been saying about him lately.

"Honestly, Harry, that was rather rude of you," Hermione told him during dinner.

"Was it?" Harry snarled. "I didn't say anything but the truth."

"Yeah, Hermione!" Ron added, his mouth full of half-chewed bread. "Harry only used math to defeat the beast. Shouldn't that put some extra owls in your coop?"

Hermione rolled her eyes at them both. "Nevertheless, I don't think you should have accused her like that," she said. "Think about it. It's her first day on the job and already an unruly student has made a mockery of her. Don't you at least feel a bit sad for her?"

Harry snorted. "I thought you didn't like her class either?"

"Well… no," Hermione admitted. "I do think we need practical study as well, of course, but that doesn't mean I think she's a bad person or a death eater in disguise."

"Hey, I never asked her to show me her arm," Harry said defensively. "That is entirely Ron's fabrication."

"But you did make a complete fool of yourself, did you not, Mr Potter?" a stern voice suddenly asked from behind him. Harry froze mid-chew when he recognised his head of house. Sheepishly, he turned around to face her. She was glaring at him from behind her rectangular spectacles, not a shred of compassion to be seen.

"Since you're already serving detention this evening, I would like you to cut your dinner short to come with me now, Mr Potter," McGonagall told him. "I'll make it short so you can serve your detention on time."

Harry glanced at his friends to try and get some help from them but he should have known better. Ron was staring at his plate rather sheepishly and Hermione glanced at him helplessly.

"Oh, and Mr Weasley," McGonagall added as an afterthought. "Ten points from Gryffindor for your… embellishments." Ron opened his mouth to reply but closed it again after consideration.

"Come along now, Mr Potter."

Harry shoved his plate aside and got up from his seat. Under the gaze of the entire student body and the Professors present at the high table, he was marched out of the Great Hall. He only just caught Snape's disapproving glance. He didn't know why that bothered him so much.

McGonagall didn't say another word until they reached her office. With a flick of her wand, she closed the door and added a silencing spell for good measure. She then took the seat behind her desk and steepled her fingers as she waited for Harry to sit down as well. He did so, sitting rigidly in front of his head of house.

"What part," McGonagall said, "of the words 'lay low' did you not understand? Were you confunded when I asked you? Did you somehow understand the exact opposite of what I intended?"

"No, Professor," Harry replied. "But Umbridge was being unfair! Did you know she won't even let us practice our spells?"

"_Professor_ Umbridge, Mr Potter," McGonagall corrected sternly. "And my personal views on her lesson plan are of no matter. That is up to her alone."

_And you people wonder why our defence professors have all sucked so far._

"Furthermore," McGonagall continued. "I don't think accusing her of infidelity towards the ministry was a good move on your part. Professor Umbridge is very fond of her position and jeopardising that will only antagonise her."

Harry scoffed. "I hardly think the minister will take what I have to say into consideration," he said. "I'm the boy-who-lied, remember?"

"You're lashing out, Potter," McGonagall said. "But that kind of behaviour won't serve you well. I advise that you serve whatever detention she has planned for you without complaint and make sure not to earn yourself another one in the near future. You already lost our house a hundred points today and it's only the first day of school. Keep out of trouble, alright?"

_Keep out of trouble and ignore the obvious flaws in our system. What does it matter if no one learns how to defend themselves, right?_

"I'll try, Professor," Harry said evenly.

McGonagall sighed but waved her hand in a gesture of dismissal. "Be on your way," she said. "We can't have you be late."

Harry left the office and shut the door a bit more loudly than was strictly necessary. But he just couldn't help himself. His head of house should be on his side, shouldn't she? How could she not understand that Umbridge was going to be a problem? Asking him to lay low. Harry muttered some expletives under his breath as he kept walking in a brusque pace, headed towards Umbridge's office.

When he rounded the last corner, he almost ran smack dab into Crabbe and Goyle. For once, Malfoy wasn't part of the pack. They quickly shushed each other when they realised Harry was there.

"Eavesdropping, are we Potter?" Crabbe asked venomously.

Harry frowned. "No," he said coldly. "I'm just walking."

Goyle smirked. "Whatever," he said. "One word, Potter, and we'll make sure you regret it."

Flabbergasted, Harry watched as Crabbe and Goyle hurried away, throwing a glance over their shoulders every now and then.

Now_ what are those monkeys up to?_

Deciding that now was not the time to go chasing after suspicious Slytherins, Harry knocked on Umbridge's door.

"Come in," sounded her sickly sweet voice. Harry clenched his jaw and entered the office. The first thing he noticed was the appalling pinkness of the décor. She even charmed the bricks to be a pale pink and there were portraits of kittens hung all over the small room. They were all mewling loudly and hissing when Harry walked past.

"Ah, Mr Potter," Umbridge greeted. "Cutting it kind of close, are we?"

It was five minutes to seven so Harry knew he was on time. "Professor McGonagall wanted to see me," he said honestly.

"Ah, that's good," Umbridge said, fake kindness colouring her voice. "I do hope that she got through to you. It won't do to speak to your superiors in the tone of voice you used. You do understand that, don't you?"

_Keep a level head. Lay low. You said you'd try._

"Yes, Professor," he replied as meekly as he could.

"Outstanding!" Umbridge exclaimed, happy as a niffler in a dragon hoard. "Now, I do still need to punish you for your lies, you understand."

Harry nodded jerkily.

"Good," Umbridge said. "Go ahead and take a seat. You'll be writing some lines for me today."

Harry did as he was told. He was given parchment and a quill but no ink. Puzzled, he looked up to meet Umbridge's suspiciously gleeful gaze.

"Yes?" she asked.

"I don't have any ink," Harry pointed out.

_Are you really that stupid or do you enjoy me pointing out the obvious?_

"You won't need any ink, dear," she said. "Why don't you begin? You'll see for yourself soon enough. The line you'll be writing is 'I must not tell lies."

"How many times?" Harry asked blandly.

"Oh, let's see," Umbridge replied thoughtfully. "Enough for the message to sink in, I think."

Harry frowned and after that puzzling set of instructions began to write. Soon it became very clear why Harry didn't need any ink. By the time he was finished that night, the sentence was carved deeply into his hand, dried blood colouring its edges and pain coursing through his nerves right up to his elbow.

"Well," Umbridge said, sounding quite pleased with herself at the end of the evening. "Do you have any new information about you-know-who?"

Harry narrowed his eyes at her.

_Lay low, fine. But I won't lie._

"Nothing you don't already know," he said. "Just that he's back and will probably be attacking soon."

"I'll see you again tomorrow, Mr Potter," Umbridge replied without missing a beat. "You are dismissed."

* * *

_Before you say anything, I know. There was no Snape in this chapter. I'm terribly sorry but this is how the chapter had to go. Snape will return in the next one._

_On that note, I have to announce that the next update will be for Friday, again. No, don't grab your pitchforks just yet. Let me explain! As I've been writing these last chapters, I realised that it would be dead useful for me to have the final arc written already. It will help me put together a logical and deep story. On that note, I've been writing the last arc and am doing everything I can to finish that swiftly. (I've even put my original story on hold for this)_

After that is done, I'll probably update twice a week again. But for now, bear with me, alright?

And please, please review. As always, I'm curious to hear what you think. And let's face it. It doesn't hurt my ego either.

See you all next Friday!


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

Harry watched the forest with narrowed eyes. He heard some rustling in the distance but knew well enough that nothing in here would dare to approach him. Barefoot, he walked along the cylindrical stone platform that disturbed the otherwise completely natural surroundings. His eyes carefully scanned the runes placed at meticulously measured intervals. They seemed to be in order.

The altar, however, was not coming along as nicely as he would have liked.

"Wormtail," Harry said evenly, smirking when he noticed the frightened flinch from his subordinate.

"Y-yes, my Lord?" Wormtail replied, grovelling immediately. He clenched the ritual dagger firmly in a silver fist but the edge was pointed towards himself rather than towards Harry. Good. The rat knew his place.

"Would you explain to me what the problem is?" Harry hissed, his tone almost hypnotic. "Was my trust in you misplaced?"

"Never, my Lord," Wormtail was quick to respond. "I know what I need to do. I just think that –" he trailed off as if scared of what he was going to say next.

"Continue, old friend," Harry purred.

"I don't have all the resources," Wormtail said apologetically, his nose touching the stone platform beneath him as he bowed. "This is a very dark ritual, my Lord."

"Crucio," Harry said almost lazily, watching his subordinate writhe on the floor in glorious pain. After a few seconds, he reluctantly lifted his wand. "I know everything there is to know about this process, Wormtail," Voldemort said. "You would do well not to speak to me as if I were a fool."

"A thousand apologies, my Lord," Wormtail cried. Harry sneered. What a pathetic little man he was. But he was loyal. And he was to be trusted. As much as he lacked spirit and skills, he did have a sharp mind. Something Harry needed right now.

"When seeking great power, the risks and costs are equally pronounced," Harry said. He reached out and stroked Wormtail's head almost lovingly. Wormtail flinched at the touch but didn't pull away. "But I know that you all will bear those risks with me when the time comes."

"Yes, my Lord," Wormtail said eagerly. "We would do anything for you."

"I know," Harry whispered. "As for the required resources you're missing, can't you make do with what you have?" Harry licked his lips, feeling oddly ecstatic.

"I would use it all for you," Wormtail said obediently. "You know I would. But I don't have enough."

"Very well," Harry said, waving his hand dismissively. "I'll need to put the plan into motion a bit sooner than I had intended but… it might work out for the better this way."

"Thank you, my Lord, for your benevolence and understanding," Wormtail said, his face still touching the stones.

Harry stopped smiling. "I am not a patient man, Wormtail," he said. "You would do well to remember that."

Wormtail sobbed loudly as he scurried backwards. His fear was obvious and Harry revelled in it. Soon. When everything was done, the world would never again think that anyone, not even Dumbledore, could defeat him.

* * *

"Harry, wake up!"

Someone slapped Harry in the face. Hard. Startled, he opened his eyes to meet Ron's frightened stare. His hands were on Harry's shoulders and he kept glancing at Harry's forehead.

"Ron," Harry said, his voice hoarse. Had he screamed? His entire body was in pain and his right hand twitched occasionally. "What happened?"

"You were thrashing in your bed and moaning," Ron said, panic still colouring his voice. "When I came closer you suddenly started screaming – oh, mate, you look terrible."

Ron's eyes fluttered to Harry's forehead again. Frowning, Harry touched his scar and looked at his fingertips only to find them coated in blood.

_Merlin, no, not again._

"I'm sorry," Harry mumbled. "I didn't mean to wake you."

At that moment, the door to the dorm opened. Harry hadn't even noticed that Neville wasn't in the room anymore but there he was, a frantic McGonagall right behind him. A flick of her wand turned on the lights, revealing the frightened faces of Harry's dorm mates. McGonagall's normally tidy hair was let down in a long braid. She was wearing a long nightgown and crimson slippers.

"Professor," Harry said, his voice still not fully cooperating.

McGonagall threw one look at Harry's bloody scar before making a decision. "Can you stand, Mr Potter?" she asked.

"I think so," Harry said. He swung his legs from his bed and tested them out gingerly. When his legs, despite being wobbly, didn't buckle, McGonagall nodded sharply.

"Come with me," she said. "The rest of you back to sleep. And don't speak a word of this to anyone, is that clear?"

Harry dully registered the chorus of 'Yes, Professor McGonagall' and stepped up to his head of house. One last warning glance later, they both exited the room and descended down the stairs. Harry felt nauseous and pressed his hand against his mouth to keep from expelling his dinner. McGonagall was talking to him, he thought, but he didn't exactly register her words. It was not until she summoned a handful of floo powder and tossed it into the fireplace that Harry's attention returned. McGonagall pulled him into the large hearth, ducking slightly so she would fit and said, "Professor Dumbledore's office." Before Harry could protest, he was whisked away in green fire.

The office they stumbled into was empty. Harry's wobbly legs were momentarily too confused in the aftermath of the floo travel and forgot how to carry him properly. The result was that he nearly fell flat on his face. McGonagall still held his arm, though, and kept him half-upright.

"Sorry," Harry mumbled, regaining his footing. "I don't floo travel well."

"So I see, Mr Potter," McGonagall said, a worried tone in her voice. "Go ahead and sit down while I fetch the headmaster."

_Why do I have to see that old coot? He doesn't care._

But he did sit down in one of the plush chairs. McGonagall tapped one of Dumbledore's trinkets with her wand and turned it into a towel before giving it to Harry. Harry smiled his thanks before accepting it and pressing it against his scar. The towel trinket soon became stained with blood.

Harry didn't hear anything coming from the room McGonagall walked into.

_Probably cast a silencing charm so she can freely talk about me._

But he didn't have to sit there for too long. After a few minutes of glancing around the office and trying his best not to wake up the sleeping phoenix dozing on his perch, the door to what had to be Dumbledore's chambers opened to reveal his head of house and the headmaster. The man was wearing a ridiculous sleeping cap that looked like a cartoonish version of a dragon trying to eat his head. It even had tiny little wings.

"Harry," Dumbledore greeted. "Good to see you even though the circumstances are rather dire."

_Good to see me, he says while not even looking at me._

Harry wondered why Dumbledore refused to meet his gaze. For a moment, he thought the old man might feel ashamed about what he had had to do but Harry quickly killed that thought. No, he was feeling pity, wasn't he? Pity for the boy-who-lived. The boy who couldn't stand up to a family of muggles.

_Or he's upset that I'm responsible for Voldemort's return._

When Dumbledore coughed uncomfortably, Harry thought he had probably stayed silent for a bit too long. He ignored Dumbledore's avoidance for now and bowed his head.

"Good evening, Professor," he said. "Sorry to wake you up like this."

"There's nothing to be sorry for, Harry!" Dumbledore said jovially. "I am merely concerned for your well-being."

_He doesn't sound any different from usual. A bit tired, perhaps._

Harry groaned. "I think it was another vision," he said. "Snape told you about my first one, didn't he?" Harry tried to make eye contact with Dumbledore again, an impulse that simply came to him naturally, only to see Dumbledore shift his gaze away. It was beyond frustrating.

"He did," Dumbledore said kindly, ignoring the missing moniker. "I had hoped that was a one-time event caused by Voldemort's carelessness but it seems to be far graver than that." Harry stopped dabbing at his scar and looked at the stained towel. "Indeed, these visions seem to have an adverse effect on you that stretches far beyond the mental." Dumbledore hummed thoughtfully as Harry fidgeted on his chair. He glanced at McGonagall who was kind enough to look him right in the eyes. Her eyes shone with encouragement and it bolstered Harry somewhat.

"I will do everything in my power to stop these visions from happening, Harry," Dumbledore said.

"W-Wait," Harry protested, looking into Dumbledore's slightly averted eyes. "What if I can get valuable information this way? He's obviously planning something. Something big!"

Dumbledore held out his hand to stop Harry from speaking. "We can't be sure that these visions of yours actually ring true," he said. "Severus hasn't received word of any nefarious plot at the moment and I like to think that he's on top of things. Please keep in mind that Voldemort may be very aware of this connection you share and may be trying to exploit it to get to you."

Harry blanched.

_Get to me? In what way?_

"But just to be on the safe side, I would very much like to hear what you remember from the dream," Dumbledore continued. "Though, if you'll forgive me, I would like to call Severus here before I do so. After all, it would be a bit silly for you to tell the same story twice and I would very much like his thoughts on the matter."

Harry shrugged. "I'm okay with that," he said easily.

He couldn't help but notice McGonagall frown and wondered about that. Was it _that_ strange that he had no problem with Snape coming here right now? Maybe she didn't think it was like Harry to allow the Potions Master to see him in such a vulnerable state.

_But he has seen this before and much worse._

He smiled at McGonagall which seemed to put her at ease again. Meanwhile, Dumbledore walked over to his fireplace and tossed in a handful of floo powder. "Severus Snape's quarters," he said calmly. The floo flared and Dumbledore stuck his head through. It was a very odd sight to see and Harry would've chuckled if he didn't still feel so bad about this entire situation.

He couldn't hear exactly what it was that Dumbledore said but the conversation was a very short one. After not even a minute had gone by, he withdrew his head and stepped aside to make way for the Potions Master. He, in stark contrast to Dumbledore, did not look as if he just got out of bed. He was still wearing his usual black attire minus the teaching robes, his gaze sharp and alert as ever. His eyes found Harry's immediately and he clicked his tongue in dismay when he saw the blood-stained towel.

"This is ridiculous," Snape mumbled. "Albus, we can't allow this to continue."

"Of course not, Severus," Albus said tiredly. "But we will discuss that later. For now, I would like you to listen to Harry's vision with us."

Snape nodded curtly, crossed his arms and stood there, in the middle of the office, staring at Harry with an unnamed emotion in his eyes. Dumbledore and McGonagall took a seat.

"Right," Harry said, feeling decidedly put on the spot. "Not that much happened, really. Voldemort was still in the forest –" McGonagall and Snape both flinched at Harry's indiscriminate use of the name. "But this time there was a large, stone platform. I'm not sure if he was in the same spot as before. It all looked like forest to me."

Snape narrowed his eyes when he saw Harry's trembling right hand which he hid in his sleeve immediately. "Did you see the event through his eyes again?" Snape asked gruffly.

Harry nodded. "His eyes, his ears, his mind," he said. "I didn't feel like myself at all. I felt like him. I – he was very displeased about something."

"What was he displeased about?" Dumbledore prompted gently.

"I'm not sure," Harry replied. "Something to do with the ritual. Wormtail hadn't done what he was supposed to. He had to be punished for it."

Snape muttered expletives under his breath as he looked at Harry searchingly.

_What is his problem?_

Harry frowned but continued. "Wormtail said he needed something to be able to continue. I don't know what. But to continue with the preparations, Voldemort feels that he needs to put a plan in action he hadn't wanted to begin just yet."

"Was there anything else?" Snape asked urgently. "Anything at all?"

Harry thought that over for a moment. "One small thing," he said. "Voldemort said that this ritual came with certain risks and costs and that the Death Eaters would be paying for those."

"Marvellous," Snape muttered sardonically.

"Severus," Dumbledore said. "Are you sure that you don't know what this is about?"

"The Dark Lord hasn't said anything about a ritual," Snape told him. "And if he had, I would have informed you immediately."

"So you think this is a lie?" McGonagall chimed in. "A false vision?"

"It's too soon to say," Snape replied again. "But it's clear to me that the punishment Mr Potter spoke of has had an effect on him as well."

"What?" Harry asked.

"Your hand," Snape growled. "Did you think I wouldn't notice? You are clearly experiencing the aftereffects of the cruciatus curse, albeit it very mildly. It's a precedence that's rather… unnerving."

_Well, that's just fantastic. Now he'll be able to torture me from a distance._

"What are you planning on doing about this, Albus?" McGonagall asked, sounding just a bit panicked. "Would dreamless sleep help?"

"No," Snape replied in Dumbledore's stead. "Not only is dreamless sleep highly addictive, I very much doubt that it would protect Mr Potter's mind against an attack from the Dark Lord. Instead of not experiencing the vision, I imagine he would simply not be able to wake up from it anymore. And if the Dark Lord has not yet figured out this connection, he would after Mr Potter stayed in his mind for an entire night."

"Then what?" McGonagall asked.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled in a way that irked Harry before he spoke. "Occlumency," the headmaster said.

Snape nodded. "That would most likely work," he said. "Supposing Mr Potter actually has the discipline to learn that particular art. When will you begin teaching him?"

"Me, Severus?" Dumbledore asked, mischief in his voice. "I think you would be far better suited for it."

Snape scoffed. "I think not," he said harshly. "What makes you believe that that's a good idea? Your old age must finally be getting to you."

_It's always fun getting passed around like a hot potato._

McGonagall cleared her throat importantly. "Gentlemen," she chided. "You are forgetting yourselves."

"I cannot do it, Severus," Dumbledore said kindly. "You know why. And I truly believe that you and Harry will be far more compatible."

Harry snorted, earning himself a glare from the Potions Master. Dumbledore still didn't look at him but smiled. "I implore you both to try it," he said. "This matter is a serious one but I can't risk Voldemort to be able to view my own thoughts and secrets. Otherwise, Harry, I would certainly teach you myself."

Harry wasn't sure if he would even prefer that at this point.

"I can sense that my opinion holds no importance here," Snape growled. "But I would still like to point out that doing this could endanger my position with the Dark Lord. Find someone else."

"There is no one else," Dumbledore said easily. "As you well know."

Snape glanced at Harry, his glare murderous before huffing and striding over to the fireplace once more. "Fine," he spat. "I can see when a battle is lost." He grabbed a handful of floo powder, tossed it into the hearth and growled, "My quarters," in a rather annoyed tone of voice. And then he was gone.

"Do try not to antagonise Severus too much, Harry," Dumbledore then said. "And I'm sure he will attempt to do the same."

Harry somehow doubted it but he still nodded his compliance.

McGonagall shared one last glance with Dumbledore before sighing and putting her hand on Harry's shoulder. "Let's go, Mr Potter," she said. "I'd best take you to the infirmary."

"No," Harry said quickly. "I'm feeling a lot better now. Can't I just go back to the tower?"

McGonagall gave him a searching look before caving. "Very well," she said. "But if you don't feel well enough to attend classes in the morning, you're going to the infirmary."

"Yes, Professor," Harry said. "And good night, Professor Dumbledore."

One last attempt to make eye contact…

"Good night Harry," Dumbledore said cheerfully, his eyes on the sleeping form of his phoenix.

_Fine. Be that way. It's not like I'm not used to it._

True to her word, McGonagall escorted Harry back to his dorm. Everyone but Ron was already asleep and after their head of house left, Ron sat down on Harry's bed with him.

"Bloody hell, mate," he whispered. "Are you alright? I thought your head had split open or something."

"Nothing that dramatic," Harry whispered back. "But… it's still pretty bad. It's Voldemort."

Ron shivered. "I sort of guessed as much already," he said. "What did he do?"

"It's hard to explain," Harry said. "But he kind of got into my head. Literally. And also, not literally. It's hard to explain."

Ron shuddered again. "That sounds iffy," he said. "But Dumbledore can fix it, can't he?"

Harry snorted. "Maybe," he said. "We'll see soon if his… methods are effective."

Ron gave him an odd look. "Okaaaay," he said slowly, not sounding convinced in the slightest.

"Look, I'm pretty tired, Ron," Harry then said, having had enough of the conversation. "Let's get some sleep. We have Potions tomorrow and I don't want to blow up my cauldron."

"Ugh, good point," Ron said. "Alright then. Good night."

"Night," Harry echoed. He laid his head down on his already cleaned pillow and quickly fell asleep. Voldemort didn't visit him again that night but his dreams were far from peaceful. That same forest kept popping up in his mind. Those red eyes reflecting back at him when he stared into a river. A crooked smile and a tortured servant.

* * *

Before Harry even had a chance that following day, Ron had already told Hermione everything that happened to Harry that night, against McGonagall's orders. Naturally, the bushy brunette immediately bothered Harry for information during breakfast.

"What are they going to do about it?" she hissed over breakfast. "This really sounds very dangerous, Harry. Who knows what he can do with your mind while he's in there."

"They mentioned Occlumency," Harry told her softly. "Whatever that is."

Hermione clearly did know.

"What?" she screeched. When Harry motioned for her to lower her voice again, she did. "What?" she repeated in a hiss. "Occlumency? That's fantastic. Oh, Harry, what I wouldn't give to learn that. It sounds like such a useful skill. Oh, and of course it would help you with this problem. I can't believe I didn't think of it myself! I might know of some books that can help you. Or do you think Professor Snape will give you some of his own? Oh, if he does, please let me borrow them. I promise I'll be careful. Ooh, do you think I could join you? I could at least help you practice. When do you –"

"Hermione!" Harry finally interrupted. "You're rambling."

Hermione had the decency to look abashed. "Sorry," she said. "I'm just so excited for you."

"That makes one of us," Harry grumbled, spearing one of his hard-boiled eggs.

"I'm sure it'll be fine," Hermione said soothingly. "Just do your best and I'm sure Professor Snape will do the same."

Harry snorted, wondering if Hermione sounded like Dumbledore often. "I can't believe that after four years, you still have faith in him," he said before glancing at the high table. Snape was calmly eating his breakfast, staring at the Slytherin table. Harry looked over as well to see Malfoy picking at his food absentmindedly. Crabbe and Goyle seemed to be trying to nudge him into a conversation but to no avail. Harry frowned, wondering what could possibly be wrong with the blonde. He was acting suspicious, really.

"Harry," Hermione urged, sounding as if she had already called on him.

"Yes?" Harry asked absentmindedly.

"It'll be alright," she said, cupping his hand with her own.

And Harry considered that. It just might be. After all, Snape seemed to have kept his promise about not telling anyone about Harry's home-life. Not even McGonagall seemed to be aware of it. Reluctantly, he had to admit that there was honour in the man. A little bit, at least. Unexpectedly, Harry started thinking back to Snape's time at the Dursleys. The way he had made Harry eat those pancakes, the exploding pillow and their friendly competition on the PlayStation had been… well… not what Harry would have expected of Snape. There was more to the man than he had originally thought.

"Who're you thinking about?" Ron asked teasingly. Harry blinked when he saw the smirk on his best friend's face.

"What?" he asked, genuinely confused.

"Oh, don't even try to hide it," Ron chuckled. "You were smiling. Who is she?"

_Ugh! Yuck! No!_

"I wasn't thinking about a girl!" Harry exclaimed. "Yeesh. Can't a bloke have some nice memories to think back to?"

Ron held up his hands in a placating gesture. "Fine, fine," he said but his grin was still there. "Have it your way, boy wonder. Now hurry up. We don't want to be late for potions."

"You're the one who won't stop eating," Hermione pointed out to Ron. Her cutlery was already neatly stacked on her plate.

"These bangers are just so good!" Ron defended himself.

Harry chuckled. "You say that every morning," he pointed out. Hermione snorted in response.

* * *

As fifth-year Gryffindors, they all knew not to be late to Snape's potions class. Especially not the first one of the year. So they all stood waiting in front of the door to the classroom, neatly lined up. The Slytherins stood on the opposite end, glowering at the Gryffindors and throwing out some scathing remarks about bloodlines and parenthood and the like.

"What's the matter, Potter?" Crabbe said snidely. "Were you too scared to take the train? Did you need the headmaster to babysit you?"

Harry narrowed his eyes at the thick-headed Slytherin. "We can't all have a father death eater that makes sure we aren't targeted," he quipped.

"At least I _have_ a father," Crabbe snarled angrily. He took a step forward and raised his fist as if ready to sock Harry but Malfoy glared at him, making him back down.

"Stop provoking your betters, Scarhead," Malfoy drawled lazily. "Sooner or later you'll come to regret it."

"Oh, and I suppose that _you're_ his better, are you?" Ron asked. "Well, think again, Malfoy."

"Stay out of this, Weasel," Malfoy said, eyeing Ron up and down. "I don't think your robes could survive a scuffle."

Hermione hushed them just in time to see Snape turn a corner, robes billowing behind him as always. He stared down his nose at the students waiting for him and seemed to be scrutinising Harry and Crabbe in particular.

_How does he always know?_

"If you are quite done getting reacquainted with one another, get inside," Snape barked.

No one waited. Right after Snape flicked his wand to open the door, there was a mad scramble when everyone tried their best to hurry inside as quickly as possible. Except for Malfoy. He calmly stood by until everyone was inside and then properly entered, taking a seat next to Zabini. Harry found himself seated next to Ron and waited while Snape got settled. He watched the dour man as he wrote down the instructions on the board.

Before, he had wondered if they would adopt the same antagonistic relationship they had before… well… everything. But now he realised that, for him at least, that would be difficult to accomplish. There was no way that he could ignore the help Snape had extended towards him. Not only had he taken Harry away from the Dursleys when he was grievously injured but when Dumbledore wanted to send him back, he had been very angry on his behalf.

But the biggest thing, for Harry, was that he had decided to come with Harry when Dumbledore hadn't relented. Sure, the man was still snarky, harsh and snide but he actually went the extra mile for his students. He doubted even McGonagall would have taken such measures. And even if she had, she would never have played a PlayStation game with him.

"Instructions are on the board. Begin."

Snape's order brought Harry out of his reveries and he focused his attention on the board, squinting slightly to read Snape's spidery scrawl.

"And so it begins," Ron whispered dramatically. Harry smiled thinly but didn't outright laugh.

As always, he was rubbish at potions. Ron wasn't much help either. They sliced and diced to the best of their abilities but by the end, Harry's pile of arrowroot was more of a mush than a neatly sliced heap. He muttered something rude under his breath and noticed that Ron's ingredients weren't looking too much better.

That's when he felt a presence behind him and he froze instinctively. He gripped the knife in his hand a bit tighter before slowly turning his head.

"Abysmal, Potter," Snape said from behind him. "Four years of preparing ingredients and you still don't know how to properly cube them."

Harry bit his lower lip. Ron's pile was at least as bad but he wasn't about to throw his best friend under the Knight bus. "I'll start over, sir," he said instead.

"There is no more time for you to ruin an entirely new batch of expensive ingredients," Snape said. He elegantly raised his wand and vanished the mush into nothingness. "Unfortunately for the both of us, it would appear that you need some remedial potions lessons."

The Slytherins snickered but the Gryffindors were practically in shock. Harry frowned. He had never heard Snape offer anyone remedial lessons before. In fact, he very much doubted that Snape was the kind of teacher to even care about anyone's prep work.

_Something's going on._

"Stay after class. I'll tell you when you're expected then."

_He's not even giving me a choice in the matter, is he?_

Then he walked away to go inspect the Slytherins, blatantly ignoring the fact that Crabbe and Goyle hadn't even used the correct ingredients in the first place.

"Blimey, Harry," Ron whispered. "I can't believe he didn't notice _my_ ingredients. That git will never get over his bias, will he?"

"Shh, "Harry hissed. "He hears everything, you know?" He glanced at Snape who was busy answering one of Malfoy's questions, no doubt asked to draw attention to himself.

"I'm sure Hermione can help you out," Ron then said. "If you get better quicker, he probably can't keep you anymore."

Harry was still contemplating this strange turn of events and hummed absentmindedly in response. Ron seemed to be leaving him alone after that. After they had cleared their station, there wasn't a whole lot more to do than wait for class to be over. Harry wanted nothing more than to put his head down and sleep, seeing how he didn't get much of that after last night, but he knew that that would likely be a horrible idea. Even if Snape knew about his visions.

Ron was leaning his head on his hand, staring into the distance and Harry started rubbing at his itching hand. The carved words 'I must not tell lies' were still there, of course, but Harry hadn't given them all that much thought anymore. Corporeal punishment was nothing new to him and as far as Harry was concerned, it wasn't a big deal. The scratches were so thin that no one had even noticed them yet. And he wasn't about to point them out either. It's not as if Dumbledore would do anything about Umbridge. There had been worse defence teachers, after all, and they had all been allowed to finish their year.

"Class dismissed."

Harry had been so deep in thought that he hadn't even realised that class was over. While everyone else gathered their things, Harry remained seated, waiting for everyone else to leave. Ron glanced at him uncertainly but Hermione didn't seem to think anything was wrong. She dragged Ron with her and then they were alone.

"Take a seat, Mr Potter," Snape said from behind his desk, after magically closing and locking the door. Harry left his station and sat in the offered chair. Curiously he met Snape's gaze.

"As you probably well realise, I am not about to give you remedial potions lessons," he said. "You can practice your preparation on your own time and I would advise that you do so urgently."

Harry snorted in response before his eyes widened slightly. When had he started feeling comfortable enough around Snape to give him _that_ kind of response?

Oddly enough, Snape didn't comment on it.

"Instead, your 'remedial potions' will be a cover for Occlumency."

_Of course. Slytherins and their secretive ways._

"We will be meeting twice a week to try and get this subtle art hammered into your thick skull. If you're successful, these visions you have should stop."

"Hermione thought so as well," Harry offered.

Snape glared at him for a moment before speaking again. "Who have you already told of these plans?" he asked.

"Ron and Hermione," Harry replied. "Er… was that not alright?"

"You might not fully understand the situation I find myself in but if the Dark Lord finds out about these lessons, both of us will be in a world of trouble."

Harry gulped. "Oh," he said, feeling decidedly stupid.

Snape nodded. "Indeed," he said. "Make sure that you tell no one else. And do inform your friends that they tell no one else either. I understand that you'd not mourn the loss of your Potions Master but _I_ would very much like to stay alive."

Harry bristled a bit. "I told them because I trust them," he said. "Not because I thought it would endanger you."

Snape smirked. "I know that," he said. "Meet me in my office after dinner today."

"Er…" Harry said. "I… can't."

Snape fixed him with a pointed glare. "And why, pray tell, is that?" he asked.

"I have detention with Professor Umbridge," Harry admitted.

"Again?" Snape asked incredulously. "However did you manage that? And don't look at me like that. Of course I know about the detention you had yesterday."

Harry instinctively put his hand into his pocket. "I said something she didn't like to hear," he said.

Snape scrutinised him for a moment before speaking again. "Tomorrow it is," he then said. "But starting next week, do keep your Tuesdays and Thursdays available for Occlumency, is that understood?"

"Yes, sir," Harry replied.

"Good," Snape said. "Now go. Before you're late for your next class and earn yourself yet _another_ detention."

Harry chuckled. "I'm sure Professor Sprout will understand," he said. "See you tomorrow, Professor!"

Snape nodded and Harry rushed out the door. He didn't get very far, though, without hearing the hardly hushed voices of Crabbe and Goyle. He slowed his pace and didn't round the next corner out of fear of exposing himself. Yes, eavesdropping might not be a very Gryffindor thing to do, but these two were clearly up to something.

"- making him more dangerous, it is," Crabbe said softly. "I think he could hurt someone."

"Don't say that," Goyle chided. "He'll be fine. He has himself under control."

"Does he, though?" Crabbe asked doubtfully. "You've seen what he's like when… that time comes around. He's not fully in control anymore."

"So lock him in his room or something," Goyle said. "Or better yet, an unused classroom."

"That's a bit cruel, don't you think?" Crabbe replied. "He probably wouldn't hurt another Slytherin, anyways."

"Where is – shhh, I think I hear someone."

Taking no chances, Harry silently backtracked a little and then began running very loudly as to create the illusion that he was only just arriving. Without looking at the two meatheads, he rushed past them to head to his Herbology lesson, the Slytherins' odd conversation heavy on his mind.

* * *

_Thank you all very much for your reviews. Your continued support continues to motivate me to do my best._

_I know this is a trying time for many of us. My country is no different but so far, not much has changed for me personally. Though I suspect that soon I might be blessed with even more time to write. I suspect it won't be long until a general lockdown is in effect here. That said, though, I'm not too worried. I merely think it will provide me with more free time._

_I have been writing the final act, as I have said at the end of the previous chapter, and am pleased to announce that I wrote 20000 words or 4 chapters so far. It's not done, though, so again, I will be updating next Friday rather than Tuesday. But in my defence, my chapters are getting to be longer than they were in the Potions series._

_Lastly, please do keep sending me reviews. I'm curious to know what you think is going on in Slytherin. And what you thought in general, of course._

_See you on Friday!_


	15. Chapter 15

Hey everyone! What's this, you ask? The next chapter while it's only Tuesday? yes, indeed! Since I'll be having a lot more spare time for the near future, I expect to be writing a great deal more than I normally would. And since Chapter 16 is nearly complete, I thought: what the hell? Do enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 15**

When Harry relayed the odd conversation he overheard to his friends over dinner, he quickly found that he didn't get the response he had expected.

"Harry," Hermione sighed. "Don't you think you're overthinking this a bit?"

"Yeah," Ron chimed in, his mouth stuffed with boiled potatoes. "I hate the Slytherins as much as the next Gryffindor but those two are too stupid to be up to anything really dangerous."

"Weren't you listening?" Harry asked incredulously. "It's not _them_ that's dangerous but whoever they were talking about!"

"As if they would recognise dangerous if it bit them in the face," Ron chuckled. "I'd bet they'd be scared of Cornish pixies!"

"Who wouldn't after the train wreck that was Lockhart?" Hermione mumbled indignantly. She was still a bit bitter about the exposure of her beloved teacher.

Harry furrowed his brow in annoyance. "I can't believe you're not taking this more seriously," he said while he mushed his mashed potatoes even more.

Hermione sighed. "You're always saying how trouble finds _you_," she pointed out. "Why would you want to go out and find more that has nothing to do with you? Honestly, Harry, sometimes I think you have a saving-people thing."

Harry abruptly stood up from his seat, leaving his untouched meal to be disposed of. "I'm going to be late for my detention," he murmured and strode out of the great hall, ignoring the eyes in his back.

Angrily, he stomped towards Umbridge's office, knowing full well that he still had another half hour to kill before his detention was actually supposed to start. Umbridge, for one, was still eating in the great hall. Harry had seen her try and cosy up to Snape for some reason. He shuddered at even the thought of those two together, though that had more to do with Umbridge than with Snape.

The door wasn't open so he leaned against the wall and sighed, starting to wonder if he had overreacted. He had hoped that his friends would've been on his side on this. They had had no qualms breaking into the Slytherin common room during second year, after all. What harm could it do to investigate whatever Malfoy's shadows were up to?

Harry scoffed when he remembered Hermione's earlier words. A saving-people thing. And what, exactly, was wrong with that? Was it so bad that he didn't want to see anyone endangered just because those two meatheads didn't have Malfoy around them anymore to rein them in?

_Wait a second… Malfoy!_

That must be it! Whatever was going on just had to have something to do with his blonde nemesis. He really hadn't been around Crabbe and Goyle much anymore, had he? And then there was his strange behaviour which even Ron had noticed. And that must be why those two were so secretive about this whole thing. They worshipped Malfoy and didn't want any harm to come to him, never mind that he was likely to injure someone else.

It all fit.

But what was going on with him that was so dangerous? Harry doubted that he was a werewolf or anything. That, he would have noticed. Unless he was bitten over the summer, of course. But there wasn't a trace of any sort of injury on him. Not that Harry had seen, at least.

The longer he thought about it, the more outrageous his thoughts became. Thinking that someone had cursed him in some way might still have some merit to it but actually speculating that Malfoy was actually some sort of half breed was bordering on insanity. Though Harry did find it amusing to consider some sort of Jekyll and Hyde situation going on with him. But no, that was ridiculous.

Before he knew it, the time had passed and Umbridge appeared right in front of him.

"Mr Potter," she said, sounding mildly surprised. "I'm glad to see you be so punctual. Perhaps you _are_ capable of learning some respect."

_If I had known you'd take it so well, I would have spent my time somewhere else._

"Yes, Professor," he said instead.

"Well, go on in then," she urged after waving her wand to open the door. Harry walked in with Umbridge right behind him.

"Take a seat, Mr Potter," she said cheerfully. Harry grit his teeth and sat down in the same spot he had chosen before. There were no signs of blood on the desk whatsoever. It looked as innocent as the next one, all proof of what was going on here gone.

Umbridge slid a stack of parchment his way and handed him the same quill he had used before. Harry looked at her expectantly, worried that if he voiced a question, it would come out as something inappropriately provocative. She smiled warmly at him and replied to his unspoken question.

"The same as yesterday, don't you think?" she said. "I must not tell lies. Until the message sinks in."

Not giving her the satisfaction of an outward reaction, he took the proffered quill and started writing. 'I must not tell lies' over and over again. As he wrote, Harry tried to allow his mind to wander. To think about all the horrible ways Umbridge's year at Hogwarts might come to an end.

_Maybe she'll be abducted by a dragon. Or maybe she'll antagonise Snape so much that one day she just disappears. Ooh, maybe Hagrid could introduce her to Fluffy._

But no matter what he thought about, the pain of the sharp quill's point was not to be ignored. It was actually worse than the day before. Earlier, it had only really opened up his flesh after a couple of hours of writing. But this time, the fresh wound opened up after a mere three lines, a bit of blood welling up as it did. Fifteen minutes later, blood was trickling freely and staining both desk and parchment.

Harry was so focused on trying not to cry out that he hadn't even noticed it when Umbridge had come to stand beside him.

"Oh dear," she said gently, almost making Harry jump in surprise. "That _does_ look painful." She put what Harry thought was supposed to be a comforting hand on his lower arm as she inspected the phrase. Harry shuddered involuntarily when her thumb caressed his upper wrist, smearing a droplet of blood. "Aren't you ready to stop yet?"

Harry jerked his arm away from her and stared at her defiantly. "_I'm_ not the one who decides when detention is over, Professor," he said, realising that he sounded much too cross.

Umbridge clicked her tongue against her teeth. "And here I thought you finally realised what respect was."

"Oh, I do," Harry replied easily. "There are loads of people I respect. But _they_ earned it."

Umbridge did not seem as insulted as Harry had hoped. Instead, a cruel smile formed on her lips, as if she was happily anticipating Harry's reactions.

"Are you telling me that I didn't, in fact, earn your respect, Mr Potter?" she asked sweetly.

Harry could sense the danger lurking behind her sickening tone of voice and forced himself to calm down. Averting his gaze, he stared back at his parchment where the bloody sentence was staring him in the face. He chose not to respond.

_I must not tell lies, after all._

"Why do you insist on punishing yourself like this?" Umbridge asked, sounding almost pained. "All you need to do to get out of these detentions is admit to your lies. That isn't so hard, is it?"

Harry continued writing the phrase, ignoring the stinging in his hand and Umbridge alike.

Umbridge sighed sadly. "As you wish, Mr Potter," she said. "I do hate to see you suffer like this but you must understand; I will not stop doing my very best to turn you into a respectable young man worthy of the praise the wizarding world bestows upon him."

_As far as personal vendetta's go, that one's just bloody ridiculous._

She left him to it after that. Thankfully, there wasn't much more time left until curfew so three-quarters of an hour later, Umbridge took the quill from him mid-sentence and crossed her arms.

"Well?" she asked expectantly.

"Professor?" Harry asked innocently, pretending not to understand what she wanted. Inside he was fuming with rage, the feel of blood dripping along his fingers doing nothing to calm him down. But he had to be clever about this. Riling the woman up, even more, was not.

"Do you have anything to say about your earlier allegations?" Umbridge asked easily as she twirled the quill between her stubby fingers.

"I'm sorry, Professor," Harry said earnestly, almost laughing at the triumphant smirk coming over Umbridge's face. "But I must not tell lies." That wiped the smirk clean off, making room for a very dark glare.

"Potter," she growled under her breath. "I have tolerated your behaviour admirably so far. But I will not continue to do so. This is your last chance."

_Don't provoke her, you idiot. Just bow your head and pretend to be sorry._

"My vault against yours," Harry said. "I'll bet my vault against yours that by the end of this school year, you will have no choice but to believe me."

_Oops. Failed again. Ah, well._

Umbridge was fuming and if her rage hadn't been directed at Harry he might have laughed at the way her red face clashed with her pink ensemble.

"Detention tomorrow!" she screeched.

"I'm terribly sorry but I can't," Harry said easily. "I already have a prior engagement with Professor Snape."

Umbridge narrowed her eyes at him but Harry didn't step back even though his instincts screamed at him to do just that. "Thursday then," she said.

"Oh dear," Harry replied, realising that he was sounding a bit too pleased with himself. "Thursday won't work either. I'm also meeting Professor Snape then."

"Is that so?" Umbridge huffed. "Friday it is, then. No excuses this time. And if I'm not satisfied with your progress you might as well spend the entire weekend in my office."

Harry only just managed not to roll his eyes. "Yes, Professor," he said. He couldn't help but notice the trembling of Umbridge's hands and wondered just how badly she would like to hit him. That did seem like her sort of thing. But she didn't and he strolled out of her office, his chin tilted high and his blood dripping on the stone floors.

He had almost made it back to the Gryffindor Tower when he suddenly felt queasy. The world around him seemed to spin somewhat and the edges of his vision were slowly turning red. Hissing when a dull pain started throbbing in his scar, he stumbled forward, trying his best to get to at least the common room to get help.

But before he had taken another step, the red overtook his vision and his consciousness faded into nothingness.

* * *

When Harry next came to, he was standing in the Gargoyle corridor, near the entrance to Dumbledore's office. Frowning, he looked around and saw that there was no one nearby. Instantly he noticed that his clothing was damp and his hands were grimy. The hem of his robe was filthy and stained.

_What the hell?_

After recovering from the fact that he had no idea how he got here nor what he was doing here in the first place, he numbly made his way back to where he had wanted to go. The Gryffindor tower. Casting a quick Tempus as he walked, his resounding footsteps bouncing off the empty corridor walls, he realised that it was already past two in the morning. He gasped when he realised that he had lost more than four hours.

He half expected to run into Snape or worse, Filch on his way back but blessedly, he encountered no one. The fat lady gave him a disgusted once-over as he approached her and rubbed her eyes as if she was just waking up.

"Where have _you_ been?" she asked haughtily. "You look like you've been playing near the lake."

"Mimbulus Mimbletonia," Harry replied, not wanting to get into this right now. Especially not with a stain of paint spelled to come to life. The fat lady huffed and scowled but she let him through nonetheless.

The common room was empty except for Ron and Hermione. Harry smiled when he saw his friends as they slept in the soft plush chairs sitting in front of the last smouldering embers dying on the hearthstones.

_We are so lucky that McGonagall doesn't check up on us._

He approached his friends and took a chair adjoining to Ron's, leaning forward on his knees as he tried to sort the situation out. He looked at his right hand, covered in the sharp writing of the blood quill and noticed that his blood wasn't flowing freely anymore. Instead, the wound had scabbed over and was starting to heal.

"Harry?"

Harry looked up to meet Hermione's gaze. He hadn't wanted to wake his friends up before knowing what to say but Hermione, it would appear, was a much lighter sleeper than Ron was.

"Hey, Hermione," Harry said softly.

"What's wrong with your hand?" Hermione asked, shifting slightly so she sat more upright.

Harry groaned inwardly. She must have caught him looking at it when he thought she was still asleep. There was no point in lying to her, really. She _was_ the most clever with of her age, after all.

"Umbridge's detention," he said matter-of-factly.

Hermione frowned. "What?" she asked, a bit louder than Harry would have liked. "She's carving things into your hand?"

"Not exactly," Harry said when Ron began to stir.

The redhead yawned and stretched dramatically before smacking his lips and aiming his bleary eyes at Harry. "Hi, mate," he said. "What time is it?"

"A little past two," Harry replied cautiously.

Hermione's eyes widened in response. "What?" she asked. "She's kept you _that_ late? Harry, you have to say something to Professor McGonagall. It's not right for her to cut up your hand like that _and_ keep you until after curfew!"

"It was McGonagall that told me to lay low and make the best of things, "Harry pointed out. "There's no point going to her after only two days. Besides, she only kept me until a quarter to ten."

Ron frowned. "Then where were you?" he asked carefully. "You didn't stumble across another one of Dumbledore's artefacts, did you?"

Harry smiled slightly. "No," he said. "At least, I don't think so. Listen, I want to tell you but I think it should just remain between us three, alright? I don't want anyone to know before _I_ know what's going on."

Hermione and Ron shared a look but they agreed readily enough.

"Of course, Harry," Ron said. "You know I'm on your side."

"Me too," Hermione added easily. "But we'll figure it out. What's going on? Something to do with the Slytherins?"

"No," Harry said. "I mean I don't know. It could be, I guess but I can't be sure. It all happened so fast and suddenly." He took a deep breath as he tried to compose himself. Rambling wasn't going to get him anywhere but his friends just might.

"So here's what happened," Harry then said, hoping he would sound coherent enough. "I was almost back at Gryffindor Tower when my scar started tingling. It hurt a bit but not as much as usual so I'm not sure if it was a coincidence or not. Either way, that's when I blacked out."

"You blacked out?" Hermione repeated. "Harry, that's serious. Something could be very wrong-"

"Let the bloke finish," Ron chided slightly.

Hermione stopped talking and Harry smiled gratefully. "I blacked out," he confirmed. "I woke up four hours later near Dumbledore's office looking like _this_." He raised his arms to show off the dampness of his robes and lifted his right leg to bring to light the state of the hem of his robe. "I have no idea what happened in the meantime."

Ron sniffed him and frowned. "You smell all musty," he said. "Like my great aunt's closet."

"Is that blood all yours, Harry?" Hermione asked, sounding a bit sick as her gaze was locked onto Harry's right arm.

Harry glanced at it and nodded. "Yes," he said. "It's because of that quill."

"Quill?" Hermione prompted.

Harry sighed and leaned back, suddenly exhausted. Too much had happened that night and his mind was making a mess of things. He felt as if he hadn't been able to explain either occurrence very well.

"Umbridge made me write lines with a quill that uses my own blood instead of ink," he then offered, hoping that cleared things up.

He hadn't expected Ron's sudden uttering of profanity but he had anticipated Hermione's gasp of horror.

"Harry!" she exclaimed. "That's awful! You just _have_ to tell someone!"

"No," Harry told her sternly. "I don't. I have to be careful around her. That's what McGonagall told me. So, for now, I'll just have to grin and bear it." He grinned for emphasis.

"I don't know…" Ron said, sounding as convinced as Hermione was. "That hand doesn't look good, mate. Maybe you should go to Dumbledore at least."

Harry scoffed at that. "Dumbledore won't even look at me," he said. "He's probably mad at me for what happened last year or something. I don't know but I sure as hell am not going to run to him like some clueless kid who doesn't know how to fend for himself."

"Harry," Ron said. "Dumbledore's not mad at you. I'm sure of it. If you would just talk to him-"

"No offence, Ron," Harry interrupted. "I know that he's some sort of hero for you and all but I really don't want to talk to him right now. Please don't ask me to anymore."

Ron sighed but nodded. "If that's what you want," he said.

"At least let me help you with _that_," Hermione said, sounding decidedly irritable. "I still have some Murtlap essence left. Wait right here and I'll be right back."

"Leave it to her to always have something handy, am I right?" Ron asked, smiling insecurely.

Harry appreciated the attempt to lighten the mood and smiled back. "Yeah," he agreed. "It's almost as if she has some sort of hidden room in which she stores everything she's ever brewed or read."

"Too bad we can't go up to the girls' dormitory," Ron sighed, feeling more at ease. "I'd love to see her hidden room."

"Ron!" came Hermione's exclamation from atop the stairs. Both boys turned to look at her as she stood there, blushing fiercely, with a large potion vial in her hand.

Ron became wide-eyed as he realised the misunderstanding. He raised his hands and frantically waved them as he tried to explain. "I didn't mean it like _that_!" he said urgently. "We were just saying that you always have everything handy and how useful that was. Harry thought you might have a hidden room somewhere. I would never, _ever_ want to… you know!"

As Hermione came down the stairs, her embarrassed look quickly became one of anger. "Oh really?" she asked. "And why not? Am I not good enough for you or something?"

_Oh no. Here we go._

"That's not what I meant either!" Ron then said. "I mean, I might _want_ to. I won't deny that I haven't _thought_ about it –"

A gasp from Hermione made him smack his forehead. Hard. Harry found that he was rather enjoying the show; It was a nice change of pace from the rest of his evening.

"Ah, not like _that_!" Ron exclaimed loudly. "I know what you're thinking. I wasn't – like that – not in the shower or anything. I just –"

By then Hermione had dunked Harry's hand in a bowl filled with the essence, soothing the ache of the horrid sentence. "Stop talking already!" she told him. "You're only making it worse."

"But Hermione!" Ron almost pleaded. "It's not that I don't think you're pretty or anything, because I do, but you're just not…" he trailed off.

"Your type?" Hermione asked. "What's the matter? Not busty enough? Is my hair not sleek enough? Are my teeth too large? Please do tell me why I'm _not_ in your shower phantasies."

_Hah! She's enjoying this. Poor Ron._

Ron turned an extremely unattractive shade of red as he fumbled for the words. Harry didn't miss the triumphant smirk on Hermione's lips.

"It's really not that I _don't_-" Ron began but Harry thought it best to end his suffering.

"Leave the poor bloke alone," Harry told Hermione. "Hasn't he suffered enough?"

Hermione laughed. "I suppose," she admitted. "So, how's the hand?"

"Much better," Harry said in mild surprise. "It still stings a bit but it hurts a lot less."

Ron stared at her with his mouth open as if he couldn't quite grasp what had just happened. "You were messing with me!" he accused. "You know I'm still half-asleep. That's just cruel. That's just… Slytherin!"

"No," Hermione countered sweetly. "That's just some womanly banter."

Ron mumbled something under his breath about that but Harry didn't quite catch it.

Hermione snorted but ignored the redhead. "You should probably take a shower and go to sleep," she told Harry. "You look exhausted. I promise I'll look into what might have happened to you, alright? And who knows, maybe tomorrow's Occlumency lesson might shed some light on the subject as well."

Harry nodded. "Thanks, Hermione," he said. "For the advice and for –" he nodded towards the murtlap essence, "this. It means a lot."

Hermione smiled broadly. "Any time," she said honestly. "Just try not to antagonise Professor Umbridge too much, okay? Was that your last detention?"

Harry sighed. "I have another on Friday."

"Oh, for heavens' sake," Hermione growled but she didn't say anything else. "Go to sleep," she said instead. "Both of you."

Neither boy was stupid enough not to listen so they just nodded.

Harry took that shower Hermione recommended, feeling grimy from top to bottom and put on a clean pair of pyjamas. By the time he climbed into his bed, Ron was already snoring and talking in his sleep. Something about Hermione's hidden room.

Harry snickered quietly and got comfortable under his sheets. He didn't even remember thinking of anything else before sleep overtook him. Blessedly, there were no nightmares or visions to taunt his already cut-short slumber.

* * *

Harry almost missed breakfast the next day and came in only at the last minute to snatch a crumpet to eat. Ron, despite being up late as well, hadn't missed breakfast nor had Hermione. They both shot him a knowing look when he finally arrived but didn't say anything.

Harry noticed that the Ravenclaw table was rather restless. Frowning, he asked his friends, "What's up with them?"

Ron shrugged. "No idea," he said. "Maybe some Slytherin solved the riddle to get into their common room or something."

"We have to go if we don't want to be late for History of Magic," Hermione said as she got up from her seat.

"But I _do_ want to be late," Ron whined. "Old Binns won't even notice."

Hermione sighed and grabbed Ron loosely by the collar. "Come on," she said. "Or I won't let you borrow my notes."

Ron grabbed another pastry before complying and joining his friends. Harry would also rather have skipped it. The class ended up being ridiculously boring.

All throughout the day, he couldn't help but notice the Ravenclaw's restlessness. The more the day progressed, the more he got the distinct possibility that something was very wrong. Even Flitwick didn't act like his normal, perky self during charms. Instead of giving practical lessons, he assigned everyone an essay to work on during class while he constantly had his head in the floo.

It was not until dinner time that Harry finally understood just what was wrong.

Dumbledore rose from his seat right before dinner, his imposing presence demanding immediate silence and attention from everyone present. There was no joy or kindness to be found in those blue eyes. Instead, there was only worry. Harry's heart clenched unexpectedly and he frowned as he waited.

"I apologise for interrupting everyone's well-deserved meal after what must have been another day of arduous learning and experience. I will attempt to make this short," Dumbledore said.

His eyes flickered to the Ravenclaw table before addressing the student body as a whole again. "It is with a heavy heart that I must inform you that yesterday evening, one of our beloved students has disappeared from the sanctity of Hogwarts. Her housemates inform me that she never made it back to her common room."

There were gasps and sudden murmurs coming from every table. Harry noticed that no one at the high table seemed surprised but they all shared the same glum look.

"Settle down," Dumbledore said and everyone immediately complied.

"Her name is Lisa Turpin and while she belongs in Ravenclaw house, she has friends that cross the boundaries of houses. I assure you all that we are doing everything in our power to find her and bring her back where she belongs but every piece of information that you might be able to share with us could prove to be helpful. If you can think of anything; anything at all, I implore you to tell anyone of the staff about your findings."

Dumbledore's piercing gaze swept across the hall but carefully avoided Harry even now. "You may return to your meal," he then said before sitting back down. With wide eyes, Harry glanced at the Slytherin table, immediately suspect of their involvement. He saw that some of the Slytherins seemed more excited than usual but most of them were as dumbfounded as the rest of the student body. Malfoy, on the other hand, seemed positively pale and out of sorts. He hadn't scooped up a single thing on his plate and didn't seem to plan on eating anytime soon.

But even the Slytherin's odd behaviour couldn't bring Harry to deny one little fact. Lisa Turpin's disappearance seemed to line up perfectly with his black-out. He remembered the dampness of his robes and the grime on his hands. Panicked eyes sought out Ron and Hermione who were both staring at him. They seemed to understand the implications as well.

"It can't be," Ron whispered to him as he leaned over under the guise of grabbing the peas. "It's not you, mate. Don't even think it."

"He's right," Hermione whispered. "I don't know what's going on but I would bet anything that someone is trying to frame you."

But Harry wasn't so sure. What if _this_ was why Dumbledore didn't want to look at him anymore? What if the connection he noticed with Voldemort went beyond what he dreamed about at night? What if he was, in a way, slowly becoming everything he hated with Voldemort's influence hiding inside of him?

Harry didn't feel much like eating either. He shoved his plate away and sat there, glancing at the Ravenclaw table every so often.

_Why can't I have just one normal year? Just one?_

He was so out of it that he didn't feel the burning gaze coming from the high table. Resting his chin on his palm he watched as the oranges kept restacking themselves neatly every time someone took one, thinking about what he was going to do now.

* * *

Harry didn't really want to see Snape right now. In fact, he didn't really want to see anyone. But the fact of the matter was that these lessons, whatever they would be, were going to be a whole lot better than Umbridge's appalling detentions.

Knowing that it was time, he sighed and knocked on the door, a nifty glamour firmly in place on his right hand to keep Snape from noticing anything was amiss.

"Enter," came the expected drawling voice of one Severus Snape.

Harry did so, closing the door behind him. It locked itself automatically, and Harry noticed that Snape cast all sorts of spells that were probably meant to keep people from listening in. That was most likely a clever precaution seeing how they were in Slytherin territory and everything. Snakes were not to be trusted.

_Except for Snape, of course._

"Mr Potter," Snape said, inclining his head in greeting.

"Professor," Harry greeted, not much liking the frosty encounter.

_This is the man who took a pillow to the face without exploding. He admonished Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon. He helped you with your homework…_

Harry blinked in surprise when Snape carefully lowered himself to the ground and sat there, easy as you please, as if he did it every day. The man willingly sitting on the floor like that, his legs crossed was so unexpected and strange that Harry couldn't help but stare.

"Are you going to stand there all day, or are you going to join me so that we may get started?" Snape drawled.

"You mean, sit on the floor?" Harry asked oddly but he did take a few steps closer.

"Yes, Potter," Snape said. "Since you did so with no problem while playing that mind-numbing game, I didn't think you'd be opposed to do it here as well."

Snape's lips quirked ever so slightly but it was enough to put Harry at ease. Just the fact that the man would bring that up like that meant something to Harry. He hadn't forgotten the shaky rapport the two of them had started to build. Being at Hogwarts didn't change that. Not really. Feeling much more at ease, he sat down.

"Closer," Snape urged. Harry scooted over without much dignity until Snape nodded.

"Occlumency," Snape then said, "is one of the more challenging forms of magic out there. It is famously difficult to learn and even more so to master. Very few wizards have ever come close to making this skill their own which is why it's so hard to find someone to teach you."

Harry frowned. "You don't sound too convinced about all of this," he offered.

Snape smirked. "Hm," he said. "I admit that I had my doubts at first. But you have mastered to cast a Patronus at thirteen, bested a basilisk at twelve and outflown a dragon at fourteen. Even I can't help but admit that you do the impossible all the time, even if you really shouldn't have to if you would just listen to common sense."

Harry chuckled, amazed that he felt enough at ease to do so. "I get lucky a lot," he said.

"Perhaps," Snape said, sounding as if he didn't want to linger on the subject any longer. "But luck will not assist you now. Not in Occlumency. It will take discipline and hard work. If you don't apply yourself to these lessons, you will never be able to master it, no matter if you're the-boy-who-lived or not."

Harry scowled at that. "That has nothing to do with –"

"I know, Mr Potter," Snape said dismissively. "An unfortunate turn of phrase. Now, you understand why it's imperative that you learn this skill?"

Harry nodded, suddenly feeling morose again. _More so than you know._

Snape frowned but didn't comment on Harry's obvious change in mood.

"Occlumency is the art to shield your mind from outward intrusion," Snape continued the lecture. "In normal circumstances, that would mean the attack of a Legilimens such as myself. But for you, Occlumency might entail a great deal more."

"A shield against Voldemort you mean?" Harry asked.

"Indeed," Snape replied. "If the theory of the headmaster and me is correct, mastering Occlumency should stop the Dark Lord from invading your mind, be it accidental or on purpose."

"I still think these visions might give me some useful information," Harry muttered.

"That is not for you to decide, Mr Potter," Snape said derisively. "The order has other ways of finding out about the Dark Lord's plans. I play a rather large part in that, myself, as you well know. There is no reason for your mind to remain dangerously open. Especially not since these visions clearly have a debilitating effect on your physical well-being as well."

"It's fine," Harry protested weakly.

"It is unnecessary," Snape protested. "Hence the need for Occlumency. But if you tell me right now that you refuse to learn simply because of your uninspired impression that your visions are actually worth having, then we will stop this right now and I will report to the headmaster that there is no point."

Harry sighed. "I didn't mean it like that," he said. "I'll do my best." When Snape looked at him doubtfully, Harry added, "I promise!" which seemed to win the man over.

"Very well," Snape then said, the former annoyance now gone from his voice. "The shields of your average Occlumens consist of an element in one form or another. What we will need to do first and foremost is find that element that resonates with you best."

"Element?" Harry asked. "Like fire and water you mean?"

Snape nodded sharply. "Just so," he said.

"Well, what is _your_ chosen element, sir?" Harry asked.

Snape smiled lightly as he adjusted his legs a bit. "You don't choose an element, Mr Potter," he said importantly. "Much like a wand, the element chooses the wizard. Not the other way around. It doesn't matter how much you enjoy seeing the flames dance in the fireplace, if fire doesn't attune to you, it will not work."

Harry noticed that Snape hadn't answered his question. "Right," he said. "And your element, sir?"

Snape looked thoughtful for a moment before replying. "Perhaps," he said, "you will find out before the year is over."

Harry snorted in amusement but didn't dare to push Snape again. "Challenge accepted, sir," he said instead.

"For now," Snape said, "I want you to close your eyes and clear your mind. Think of an element and imagine it to engulf your consciousness. Ask it to protect your thoughts and innermost secrets. Make it bend to your will."

_That sounds a bit vague._

"How will I know if I've chosen correctly, sir?" Harry asked.

"Trial and error," Snape said matter-of-factly. "You won't be able to know what works until you try it. I will assist by attempting to enter your mind and see what your chosen visual does for you.

Harry's eyes widened. "Enter my mind?" he repeated. "What will you do there?"

"Look for the recipe of your aunt's roast, of course," Snape said lightly, a slight smile tugging at his lips. But then he became serious again. "I will be able to peruse everything in your mind unless you successfully manage to block me."

"That sounds a bit personal," Harry said numbly. Even if Snape knew a great deal of what had been going on at the Dursleys, that didn't mean Harry wanted him to see every intricate detail. And what of other things? He could see what was going on in detention with Umbridge. He could find out about Harry's black-out. And a clever man like him would surely piece that together with that mysterious disappearance.

"It is," Snape admitted. "But I assure you that, much like I have until now, I will not spill your secrets to anyone. Not unless someone is in immediate danger." Snape narrowed his eyes a bit. "That includes you, of course."

Harry chuckled bitterly. "I'm always in danger, Professor," he said easily. "But alright, I understand." He hoped that he could redirect Snape even if he wasn't able to block the man out. For now, he would have to choose an element he felt close to.

Flying on a broom came to mind. The wind rushing through his hair as he ran through the park. A soft summer breeze cooling his back when he was weeding the garden.

Air. He would try air out first. He imagined himself standing on a platform somewhere high in the sky. It was so high that he didn't see anything when he looked down. Air was rushing all around him. He could feel it in his hair. He could hear it rushing past his ears. He could see it as the leaves danced in the wind's embrace. He breathed it in and relished in the feeling of it filling his lungs.

"Ready?" Snape asked, raising his wand.

Unsure, but not thinking that he could ever be more ready, Harry nodded.

"Very well," Snape said, sounding pleased. "Legilimens!"

* * *

_Ah, Occlumency. A moment we've all been waiting for, have we not? More mystery has been added but no answers have been given yet. I'm terribly sorry about that but just give me some time._

_Please do let me know what you thought? I'm writing as fast as I can for all of you *nudge nudge, wink wink* so please take a few minutes to share a review with me._


	16. Chapter 16

_Hi Everyone! I just want to give a huge thank you to all of my reviewers. You guys really give me the motivation to keep writing as often as I can. And to all those guest reviewers I can't respond too: Know that I appreciate your comments as well. Some of my best reviews have been guest reviews. Without further ado, please enjoy!_

* * *

**Chapter 16**

Suddenly overcome by the force of something invisible slamming into him, Harry reeled backwards. He noticed someone grab his wrist and steady him but was only aware of it from a distance. As if he was watching it happen to someone else.

The vision of Snape's office had vanished as soon as the man had cast his spell. Now all he could see was the visual he had tried working with. Him standing atop that pillar as the wind rushed past him. It was, however, not as peaceful as he had hoped it would be. Instead, the platform beneath his feet quaked and shuddered and he dropped to his hands and knees to keep himself from falling over.

It lasted a few seconds at most before his foothold was shattered and Harry plummeted to earth. Only, there was no earth to plummet to. More wind rushed past his ears as he fell, the feeling of calm he had experienced before turning to one of fear. He clenched his eyes shut and stretched out his arms in front of him as if they would be able to stop the impact from killing him.

Only vaguely did he remember that this was not reality.

And then his descent slowed down significantly and he was almost floating. Darkness surrounded him as he hung there, suspended in the air. His right foot drooped a bit lower than his left and as Harry watched, it touched the surface of what appeared to be a black lake, causing three circles of illuminated ripples as it did.

_Did it… work?_

The darkness around him suddenly seemed to rush past him as well, streaks of light the only thing to give him the idea that he was moving at all even if his clothes and hair stayed firmly in place. And then, he was plunged headfirst into a memory as the darkness swivelled to reveal a moving picture as if Harry was in the middle of a movie, watching the scene unfold around him. He was watching a much younger version of himself talk to Hermione and Ron, right here at Hogwarts. He strained to listen to what the conversation was about.

"Do you think it's possible?" younger Harry asked. "That someone does things – bad things – without being aware of them?"

"I don't think so, Harry," Hermione said confidently. "And I don't think you believe that either."

_Ah, I remember this one. Second year. The Chamber of Secrets._

**Desist from admiring the scenery and attempt to push me out.**

Harry nearly jumped as he heard Snape's commanding voice reverberate all around him. He blinked as he glanced around, realising that he couldn't see Snape anywhere. Yet Snape was obviously able to see _him_. That is, the manifestation of him. Or what was he supposed to call this?

"Everyone else seems to believe it," younger Harry said wryly. "I didn't even _know_ that talking to snakes was evil!"

"I wouldn't say 'evil' exactly," Ron said, sounding not too sure. "It's just that there aren't too many known cases of good wizards speaking Parseltongue. I can't actually think of a single one that wasn't a Slytherin."

But if Harry couldn't actually _see _Snape, how was he supposed to push him out? He now tried his best to ignore the old memory playing out and focused on finding Snape's presence.

The surrounding hallways and portraits suddenly started spinning in a whirlwind of colour until nothing was recognisable anymore. They kept spinning for a while more until they slowed down and reformed into a picture of the great hall.

Harry saw himself standing among a troop of first years waiting for the sorting hat to be placed on their heads. He looked so small. So new to all of this. He had only known that he was a wizard for about a month.

Young Harry sat down on the stool and the sorting hat was placed on his head, slipping past his ears.

_Oh, no…_

He didn't want Snape to see _this_ particular moment.

**Then push me out, Potter. Focus on my presence and fight me!**

The entire Great Hall had quieted down except for a few hissed whispers. Present time Harry groaned as he remembered how much pressure he had felt about his house. How everyone expected him to be in theirs. How Dumbledore probably wished him to be a Gryffindor.

"Hmmm," He heard the hat say and knew for sure that Snape could hear the same. "Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There's talent, Ah my goodness, yes - and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that's interesting... So where shall I put you?"

_Shut up, Shut up!_

Not at all knowing what he was doing, Harry started concentrating. He needed to push Snape out. This memory might not be one of the worst he had. Far from it actually but it did help shape him into who he was today. And he wasn't sure how Snape would feel if he saw Harry's blatant dislike for Slytherin from the moment he stepped foot into Hogwarts.

But, of course, how could he stop it? No one ever told him how.

"Not Slytherin, not Slytherin," he heard himself beg the hat.

"Not Slytherin, eh?" the hat replied. "Are you sure? You could be great, you know, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that."

"Get out!" present Harry exclaimed. But it was no use. Everyone, including Snape, had witnessed what happened next as the hat shouted, "Better be - Gryffindor!"

_Well, shit._

The Great Hall vanished in a whirl of colours much as it had appeared and Harry wondered if another memory would surface. But the colours didn't reform. Instead, they just vanished into nothingness and Harry was once more plunged into that floaty darkness. It only lasted for a moment because soon he found himself evicted from his own mind. He opened his eyes to find himself back in Snape's office, the man's dark eyes staring at him quite emotionless.

"So," Harry said uneasily. "I think air is not it."

"Indeed," Snape replied, staring at Harry.

"Yeah, so…" Harry trailed off, not really sure of what he was to say or do at that moment.

After a moment more, Snape got up, breaking the awkwardness and walked to his bookshelf. He scanned the titles quickly, before grabbing the spine of a very old-looking but well-cared-for tome. He thrust it towards Harry and waited until the boy accepted it. Curiously, Harry read the title.

'A guide to Occlumency: Understanding the maze of the mind.'

"I realise that you don't quite understand the concept of how to force someone from your mind," Snape said coolly as if blaming Harry for it.

_Only because a certain git didn't see fit to explain._

"Read the first two chapters so that we may try again tomorrow," Snape continued. "I would also like to point out that air was not well-chosen indeed, and you should, therefore, decide on another element to try."

_Thanks, Captain Obvious._

"Now then," Snape said, taking a seat behind his desk. "As we have some time left, and we don't need your peers to think your remedial potion lesson was cut short, I would like to discuss a few things with you."

_Let me guess; Tell me, Potter, why do you think my house to be unworthy of your celebrity self, hm?_

Harry huffed indignantly, not looking forward to any kind of heart to heart Snape had in mind but decided that it would not do well to spark the ire of the older and far more powerful wizard. He took a seat across from Snape and sat stiffly against the chair's hard back. He half-expected Snape to conjure a tea set or something but that didn't happen. Instead, Snape steepled his fingers and regarded Harry as if he was some sort of interesting flobberworm that wasn't quite as wriggly as your usual specimen.

"Explain to me the reasoning behind that first memory, Mr Potter," Snape ordered.

Harry frowned. The first memory? What could possibly have been incriminating about that one?

"I'm not sure I understand what you mean, sir," Harry said carefully.

Snape narrowed his eyes. "Quite simply put, why did you see that particular memory?"

"It's not as if it was a conscious decision," Harry replied. "How would _I_ know what prompted it?"

"I would assume that you know your own mind," Snape said in a tone of voice that he sometimes used to talk down to his most dumb witted of students. "Whatever has been on your mind of late would have prompted that memory." That's when Snape's voice turned a tad darker. "Have you been revisiting the chamber of secrets, perhaps?"

"No, absolutely not!" Harry denied vehemently. "No, I think it's just to do with the disappearance of Lisa Turpin. You know, since Ginny was taken as well at the end."

"Is that so?" Snape asked, not sounding entirely convinced.

"Yes," Harry said. It was the truth, he thought. Not that he had put all that much thought into it. After all, Snape only now informed him that the memories were a direct result of his recent thought pattern. The big thing, though, was probably the fact that he had felt responsible back then and had the same feeling right now. He still thought it was very possible that he was somehow connected to this recent disappearance. Not that he was about to tell Snape any of that.

"But I have no idea what was the cause of the second memory," Harry then mused. He had definitely not been thinking about his house in any way of late.

"That was probably due to Mr Weasley's last words in the first one," Snape drawled. Memories do tend to spark others quite involuntarily. That's how a skilled Legilimens is able to find vital information in your mind if only they know what they are looking for."

"Oh," came Harry's less-than-eloquent reply.

"I'm curious," Snape said dangerously. "Is there any reason in particular why you deigned it necessary to convince the hat to not place you in Slytherin? It's not as if you desperately wanted to be placed in Gryffindor, as I understood it. Oh no, as long as you could avoid my house, isn't that right?"

Harry frowned. "There's really no need to take it so personally," he said softly. "I hadn't even met you yet back then."

_But if I had, I would have begged three times as hard._

"If you, even for a moment, think that I would take personal affront as to your imbecilic decisions, you are sorely mistaken," Snape said dryly. "But one tends to wonder what prompted such intense dislike in a student that had never even heard of the houses until likely that same day."

"Malfoy," Harry blurted out without really thinking about it.

Snape raised that damnable eyebrow in response. "Explain," he prompted.

"I honestly don't see what any of this has to do with Occlumency," Harry then blurted out. "What do you care my reasons are for anything I do or did?"

"Quite a lot, I would think," Snape replied easily. "By understanding your thought pattern, however impetuous, I will be able to guide you much more effectively."

Harry was doubtful. "Is that even true?" he asked.

Snape sighed. "Unfortunately for the both of us, learning Occlumency does require a certain degree of trust and understanding between student and master," he explained. "You can attempt to learn without these things but I assure you that it will be all the more difficult."

_Yet I don't see you revealing your secrets to me_, Harry thought in annoyance.

"Let's try this again, shall we?" Snape then asked. "What about Mr Malfoy caused you to deny Slytherin even then?"

Harry sighed in surrender. "His entire demeanour, I think," he said. "He told me that Ron was the wrong sort of friend. Just because he was poor and has many siblings." Harry snorted at the memory. "Anyone that feels that way about family and their financial state could never be friends with me in the first place. And I knew from when I met him back at Diagon Alley that he wanted to be in Slytherin."

Harry shrugged, wishing that Snape _had_ conjured a pot of tea. "Ron said his entire family was in Gryffindor and that he was likely to end up there as well. He was the first friend I ever made…"

Realising what he just said, he glanced at Snape, expecting some sort of deriding sneer or comment but when none came, he continued. "I wanted to stick by him. Especially against the sort of bullying behaviour that I was… well… all too familiar with."

"Am I to believe that without Mr Malfoy's interference, you might have wound up in my house?" Snape asked.

"You heard the hat, sir," Harry replied. "What do _you_ think?"

"I think you should have let the hat do its job," Snape said simply. "I am relatively sure that I would have picked up on what has been going on in that infernal muggle house much sooner had you been sorted appropriately."

Harry flushed and looked away.

_Like that would have mattered. When Dumbledore says no, the answer is no._

Snape sighed. "Mr Potter," he said, a tad softer than before. "Have you thought about my earlier comments? Have you talked to anyone as I suggested?"

Harry wanted to lie. He wanted to tell Snape that he had hashed it all out with Hermione and Ron and that there was nothing to worry about. But the man was clever. He doubted that anyone could pull the wool over his eyes even if they were a full-fledged Slytherin. McGonagall was much easier to fool, he imagined. Just smile brightly every time she asks a personal question and you're off the hook. But Snape – well – he was disgustingly perceptive at times.

"No," Harry admitted, thinking there was nothing else for it. "There's really nothing to tell."

"Isn't there?" Snape asked. "I admit that I have no idea of what transpired during my absence on that last infernal day, seeing how you didn't wish to inform me, but it's painfully obvious that it rattled you."

"It didn't _rattle_ me," Harry denied.

"No?" Snape asked. "I suppose that is why you spouted that horribly transparent monologue at Professor Umbridge, essentially accusing her of a desire to attack you in some form? I suppose that's simply how you greet every new teacher that crosses your path."

Harry sighed. "She was being unreasonable," he said.

Snape's eyes gleamed knowingly. "That's not a first, I think," he said. "Yet you've never openly defied a professor in quite that capacity."

"Maybe it was a long time coming, alright?" Harry snapped. Truth be told, he wasn't even sure himself why he had gone off like that. At that point, Umbridge hadn't even made him write in his own blood yet. All she had done was deny Harry's claims about Voldemort and Merlin knew that she was not the only one to do that.

"Professor Umbridge aside, I must insist that you speak with someone," Snape said matter-of-factly.

Harry snorted indignantly. "And who do you propose I should talk to?" he asked angrily. "I can't talk to my godfather since he's a wanted criminal, plus he would probably kill my relatives if he had an inkling of what was going on there. Dumbledore doesn't care and I'm not about to go complain to anyone else. With everything that's going on, it's a minor thing to worry about."

Harry didn't want to name it as it was. Abuse, Snape would call it. He hated that word and was not about to give the eerie man in front of him more fodder.

"I assure you that your head of house would not consider the matter 'minor', Mr Potter," Snape said softly.

_Damn it, how do I get him off my back?_

"I'll think about it, okay?" he huffed, hoping that was enough.

Snape narrowed his eyes again. "It is most decidedly not okay," he said. "Don't you think I realise when you're trying to manage me? I can't say I much appreciate the effort."

Harry was slightly taken aback. "I meant no disrespect sir," he replied, honestly enough.

"Hm," Snape replied. "Whatever the case may be, you will discuss the situation with someone within a fortnight."

"What?!"

"If you don't," Snape continued, "I will be forced to explain to your head of house what is on your mind."

"How dare you?!" Harry shouted, rising to his feet in one smooth motion. "You said you wouldn't tell anyone! You promised!"

"Don't you think I see the exhaustion on your face?" Snape snapped. "The inner turmoil clear in your every expression? Oh, I am aware of the lack of perception that is common in Gryffindor house, but rest assured that I notice these things."

_Well, that's a first!_

"What do you care anyway?!" Harry exclaimed, clenching his hands into fists.

"Do you believe yourself to be a special case, Mr Potter?" Snape replied calmly. He had still not risen from behind his desk and was giving Harry every opportunity to vent. Something that Harry, until recently, would never have deemed possible. But here they were.

"Well, you are not," Snape continued after Harry's stubborn silence. "I understand quite well the difficulties that arise from children that are in your situation. I cannot ignore them."

Harry could hear the words Snape had not spoken. 'I want to help you.' But Snape didn't understand. Harry _wasn't_ like the others.

When next he spoke it was through gritted teeth, "You know as well as I do that my situation cannot be resolved. I will simply have to go back until either Voldemort is dead or I come of age. And quite honestly, I don't see the former happening any time soon."

Snape watched him carefully, his expression guarded. "We will deal with that when the situation presents itself," he said.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yeah, fat chance, Professor," he said. "No offence, but there isn't a thing you can do to convince Dumbledore to let me stay here. It's clear to me that he doesn't care."

"Perhaps that is the way you see things now," Snape replied, still as calm as ever. "But your thoughts don't necessarily represent the reality of things, you realise."

"I know what I saw, Professor," Harry said, sounding somewhat defeated.

Snape sighed. "Think about what I said, Mr Potter," he replied. "I realise now that you're used to doing many a thing by yourself but that doesn't mean that's always the best course of action. A fortnight. And I'm already reluctant to grant you that much time."

"Can I go now?" Harry asked flatly.

Snape waved his hand in the direction of his door causing it to fly open. Harry wasted no time in getting out of there, only narrowly remembering to take the book with him.

* * *

Harry was angrily stomping through the dungeon hallways as Snape's order repeated itself mercilessly in his mind. How dare he? How dare Snape tell Harry what to do like that? His personal life was his own and the man had no business whatsoever to be meddling like that! It was infuriating, to say the least.

He rushed past a gaggle of young Slytherin girls that stared at him in trepidation as he rushed past. They seemed to be either first or second years and clearly meant him no harm, but it was enough to remind Harry that he was indeed still in Slytherin territory and would do well to not make so much of a spectacle of himself.

_I don't need Malfoy to hex me while I'm at it. One Slytherin trying to mess with my life is more than enough, thank you. _

He slowed his pace to a normal one and kept his footsteps from echoing off the dungeon walls.

Honestly, a bit of carpet here and there wouldn't hurt. On the other hand, they may be trying to stop the Slytherins from sneaking around in the first place by baring the stone floors.

" – Too dangerous, Vince." Harry heard someone say. Probably Goyle, if he remembered the first names of the two Malfoy shadows correctly.

"It'll be alright," probably Crabbe replied. "We've been researching this for ages. I swear, nothing can possibly go wrong."

"Hmmm," Goyle responded. "I still think we might be going too far with this."

"We're just trying to help, remember?" Crabbe said importantly. "Trust me. After this, we'll be hailed as heroes."

"Or expelled," Goyle huffed.

"They wouldn't dare," Crabbe said easily. "Not with our fathers where they are."

"I don't think they scare old Dumbledore all that much," Goyle said.

"If not them, Mr Malfoy would surely help us out," Crabbe replied. "Since we're doing something like this…"

"Fine," Goyle acquiesced. "So when?"

"Tomorrow," Crabbe said resolutely. "It's all been set up. Midnight seems like the appropriate time, don't you think?"

"Yeah," Goyle said. "That seems about right."

Harry was vaguely aware that he was holding his breath as he listened to the receding footsteps of the pair of Slytherins that weren't even cunning enough to keep their private conversations in their own dorm. On the other hand, they might not have expected Harry's presence. Again.

When the footsteps were no more, Harry hurried his way out of the dungeons. As soon as he reached the main gates, he broke into a sprint and raced all the way up to the Gryffindor tower right until he reached the Fat Lady's portrait. He didn't listen to her babbling on but hurriedly gave her the password and slipped inside from the moment the portrait swung open.

He was relieved to find both Ron and Hermione still sitting in the common room, working on their homework. They looked up as soon as Harry walked in. Hermione frowned at the sight of him.

"Harry," she said. "You look as if you ran here all the way from the dungeons."

"I did," Harry said breathlessly.

"Was it Peeves again?" Ron asked as put down his quill and stretched his fingers.

Harry shook his head and joined his friends at their table, careful not to disturb any of the stragglers in the room.

"Crabbe and Goyle," he whispered.

Hermione and Ron shared a glance before Ron spoke. "Harry, mate," he said. "Don't you think you might be seeing things that aren't there?"

"They were talking about doing something dangerous," Harry insisted. "And they mentioned Malfoy!"

"Of course they did," Ron said. "Isn't he their prince or something?"

"I'm talking about Lucius," Harry insisted. "They were talking about their death eater connections."

"If you feel that strongly about it, you should probably talk to Professor McGonagall," Hermione suggested. "I'm sure she'll investigate."

Harry sighed. "She told me to lay low," he said begrudgingly.

"Professor Snape then," Hermione countered. "Aren't you supposed to see him again tomorrow?"

Harry stared at her rather dumbfounded. "You're suggesting I tell Snape?"

"Well, he _is_ their head of house," Hermione said matter-of-factly. "He will probably want to know if they're up to something."

"Please," Ron huffed. "He'll probably take points for even suggesting that his good-for-nothing snakes are doing something against the rules."

"Yeah," Harry said. "I'd rather not get him on my bad side. He's been… neutral lately."

"So your Occlumency session went well then?" Hermione asked. Harry recognised the change of subject for what it was but decided to just go with it. His friends were not about to chase after Crabbe and Goyle with him. That much was for sure.

"I wouldn't say that," he replied. "Snape broke through instantly. It was very… disconcerting."

"No mercy from the git, huh?" Ron said sympathetically.

"He gave me a book to read," Harry sighed. "Said it would help teach me how to push him out."

"Well that's a good start, isn't it?" Hermione said, her eyes brimming with excitement as she looked at the book Harry had brought with him.

_I'm kind of surprised she didn't snatch it from me from the moment I got back here._

"I'm supposed to read the first two chapters by tomorrow," Harry said wryly. "_And_ decide on a new element to try."

Hermione nodded eagerly but Ron stared in confusion.

"Oh, honestly," Hermione sighed. "When shielding one's mind by means of Occlumency, the subject must focus on the chosen element to create a barrier against the enemy Legilimens."

Ron shrugged. "Okay," he said slowly. "So what did you choose first?"

"Air," Harry said. "I was sure it would work. But my vision collapsed pretty much instantly."

"How odd," Hermione said thoughtfully. "I would have suggested air for you as well. It seems kind of logical."

"Well, it didn't work," Harry said matter-of-factly. "So what should I try next?"

"I would try fire," Ron said casually. "I know I sure as hell wouldn't try going through a wall of fire. My eyebrows would burn clean off!"

"That's not really how that works, Ron," Hermione said, chuckling slightly.

"It's as good a suggestion as any, though," Harry said. "Snape mentioned that it would be a process of trial and error so I suppose I'll just have to keep trying until I find what fits for me. But in the meantime, I also need to learn how to push him out when he gets in."

"Yeah," Ron said. "Imagine that git going through your mind to try and find things to deduct points for."

"He wouldn't do that," Hermione chided. "He's a teacher."

"He said that he wouldn't use anything he found against me," Harry pointed out.

Ron seemed sceptical. "And you believe him?" he asked.

_I really shouldn't after he threatened to spill all my secrets to McGonagall, but…_

"Yes," Harry said honestly. "I really do."

"Oh, I know!" Ron said, suddenly excited. "If anyone's done something to warrant a deduction, you could show him the memory on purpose. That way, he won't be able to deduct points when he finds out later!"

"What kind of reasoning is that?" Hermione sighed. "Harry hasn't even learned how to project specific memories yet. Have you?" she added, turning to Harry.

"Definitely not," Harry said. "The memories just sort of… come to me. Though Snape did mention that he'd be able to find something incriminating if he would look for it."

"Just don't show him our break-in in the Slytherin common room," Ron said as he picked up his quill again. "I don't think he'd be able to laugh that one off."

"He might praise our Slytherin sneakiness, though," Harry said.

"I think him seeing that memory might just as well get us all killed," Ron joked. "To preserve their little secrets, you know?"

He laughed but Harry didn't. He had become very pale all of a sudden, gripping the book just a bit tighter than was necessary.

"I'm going up to the dorm to read in bed," he announced softly. He got up and rushed up the stairs, ignoring Ron's worried, "Was it something I said?" as he closed the door behind him.

He knew it was ridiculous. Ron's stupid jokes really shouldn't get to him like that. Only, they did. He threw the book on his bed and got ready in the bathroom. As he brushed his teeth, he looked at his reflection, noticing the glum look in his eyes.

_Without you, your mother and father would still be alive!_

Harry swallowed thickly as he tried to ignore Petunia's voice in his head.

_You hurt people left and right._

He didn't mean to. He didn't want anyone to get hurt because of him. But he knew that she was right. Someone always got hurt. Quirrel died because of him in his first year. For all Harry knew, the man had been possessed by Voldemort, not even fully realising what was happening. And yet he died because of it.

In second year, he almost got Ginny killed. Honestly, he was surprised that Ron was still speaking to him after all of that.

Third year he almost got himself killed; Ron got hurt and Peter Pettigrew escaped which forced Sirius to go into hiding like some common criminal. Even Snape had almost died then, to protect Harry from a werewolf.

Fourth year had been the worst of all. He actually _had_ gotten someone killed then.

_Cedric_.

Staring angrily at his reflection, Harry drew back his fist and punched the mirror with as much force as he could muster. It shattered on impact, cutting open Harry's knuckles.

_Yes, that was very helpful. You idiot!_

Harry cast a quick 'reparo' to mend the damage and wrapped a towel around his hand to still the bleeding. Sighing at his own… impetuosity as Snape would call it, he left the bathroom ready to just hide away from the rest of the world.

Putting on a front, he smiled sheepishly at Neville when he looked at Harry in concern. "Sorry," Harry said. "I accidentally broke something. I fixed it, though."

"Do you need to go to the hospital wing?" Neville asked in concern as he eyed Harry's wrapped hand.

"Nah," Harry said. "I'm fine. I just really need to get started on my homework."

"Okay," Neville said, shrugging a bit.

Taking that as his cue to end the conversation, Harry climbed into his bed and closed the curtains. He cast a silencing charm as to not disturb anyone and gingerly opened the old, yellowing book.

_Chapter one: Separating psyche from perception. _

The phrasing of the book turned out to be quite archaic and it took Harry a long while to struggle through the required chapters. It was, however, a very interesting read and Harry couldn't help but start reading the third chapter even after he had finished. Somewhere between the pages on meditation and relaxation, his eyes fluttered shut, though, and the book closed with a light thud.

His dreams that night were haunted by not only Cedric but also Quirrel who asked him why he needed to die. Harry had no sensible reply to give.

* * *

_Well, the first Occlumency lesson happened. That's always a frightful moment for any author. *Nervous chuckle* Please do let me know what you thought of it as well as the rest of the chapter, alright? The next update is planned for Tuesday since that chapter is already done._

_Thanks for reading!_


	17. Chapter 17

_Thank you all for reviewing as fatefully as you have. I'm glad you liked the Occlumency because there's going to be a whole lot more where that came from._

* * *

**Chapter 17**

School had scarcely begun and already Harry felt as if he was very behind on his schoolwork. Between Umbridge's detentions and Snape's Occlumency lessons, he wasn't left all that much time to study and write essays about senseless Goblin wars that happened because Flux the Flatulent had rather not married into the family of the Napperberry's. That meant he had to finish his work during breakfast and lunch as well as use his free periods to catch up on his studying.

It was a good thing that Hermione was willing to lend him her notes from History of Magic, giving him at least one more hour a week in which he could catch up on his homework. After all, with neither him nor Umbridge budging on the matter that was Voldemort's revival, he didn't think it feasible that he would ever see the end of her detentions. Quietly he wondered just how deep the quill could cut.

"Your dinner plate seems decidedly unchanged to me, Mr Potter," Harry heard. He had been staring at the white porcelain plate on his desk for quite a while now.

"I'm sorry, Professor," he said sheepishly. "I just wasn't sure what kind of mushroom you wanted?"

From the corner of his eye, he saw that Hermione had already gathered an abundant collection of mushrooms of all sorts.

"It really doesn't matter," McGonagall replied sternly. "Any mushroom will do. I suggest that you stop daydreaming and hop to it."

"Yes, Professor," Harry replied. When McGonagall walked away, he sighed in relief and tried focusing on turning his plate into a mushroom. It was no use, though. He couldn't stop thinking about what Crabbe and Goyle could possibly be up to. His gut was screaming at him that it had something to do with Malfoy and his bizarre behaviour lately but he had no proof. And without proof, he sure as hell wasn't going to tell either Snape or McGonagall about his suspicions. He knew better than that.

By the end of the lesson, his plate had become brown and had curled inward but other than that he hadn't made much progress.

"For those of you who haven't managed, I suggest you keep practising," McGonagall said. "There will be a practical test next week."

Harry groaned inwardly. Of course, there would be. It was a good thing that he was friends with Hermione. She would, no doubt, be able to show him how it was done. Judging from Ron's plate on a stem, he too would need her help.

"Transfiguration is too hard this year," Ron complained as they went to lunch. "it's almost as if they skipped a year between this one and the last. How am I supposed to know how to do this?"

"By reading the material," Hermione suggested scathingly. "You were supposed to read the first chapters before coming to class, remember?"

"I don't have time for that!" Ron exclaimed. "It's only the first week and already we've got heaps of homework from everyone. It's inhuman!"

"They're preparing us for our O.W.L's," Hermione said importantly. "I, for one, think it's brilliant that they're giving us so much to do."

"Oh, brilliant is it?" Ron challenged. "We'll hardly have time for quidditch this way."

"Don't be so dramatic," Hermione replied. "As long as you do your homework from the moment you get it instead of postponing everything until the last minute, you'll be fine. Right, Harry?"

Harry didn't think he was really one to talk. "Er… right," he replied. "I'll try. But with Occlumency thrown in the mix, it's really hard to keep up."

"Those detentions aren't helping either, I imagine," Hermione said slyly.

Harry sighed. "What do you want from me?" he asked. "You know those are completely unfair."

"The smart thing to do would be to say what she wants to hear," Hermione pointed out.

"Good thing I'm not a Ravenclaw, then, isn't it?" Harry snarled. "They would probably have kicked me out by now. Look at that stupid Harry Potter. Won't even deny the return of Voldemort to save his own skin."

"I didn't mean it like that," Hermione murmured. "You know that. I'm just worried about you."

Harry ran a hand through his hair and forced himself to take on a more gentle tone of voice. "I know," he said. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be mad at you. It's just… hard, you know?"

"I know," Hermione said, smiling reassuringly. "I just wish she would at least teach us how to defend ourselves. Denying _his_ return is one thing but effectively stopping us from learning how to defend ourselves is just… well… wrong!"

Ron gasped. "Are you saying that you actually disagree with a teacher?" he asked in mock horror. "You? Hermione Granger?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I don't always agree with everything, you know?" she said. "And this we definitely need to do something about. And soon."

"Yeah…" Harry said carefully. "But what?"

"Hmm…" Hermione responded. "I'll need to think about it for a while. I'll let you know once I figure something out, okay?"

Harry shrugged. He didn't know what Hermione had in mind and he wasn't sure that he even cared all that much. In the end, he wasn't all that sure if it would even matter. But hey, it was as they said. If you don't drink the potion, you won't know its effect.

* * *

Over dinner, Hermione went over Harry's mandatory Occlumency reading with him, much to his consternation. She seemed more interested in learning the art herself than she was in helping Harry study and quite honestly, Harry didn't really feel like revising right now. He had done as he was told and read the chapters. It's not as if Snape had demanded he remember them by heart.

"It'll be fine, Hermione," Ron said when she asked for the umpteenth time just how Harry thought he would push out Snape this time. "You don't need to keep drilling him."

"Don't I?" Hermione asked. "It seems to me that this is very important. Perhaps even more so than regular schoolwork. At least for Harry."

"Your point?" Harry asked tiredly.

"My _point_ is that I just thought you wanted to be prepared," Hermione said.

"And what makes you think I'm not?" Harry asked, mildly annoyed. "I know we can't all be as brilliant as you but I'm really trying here."

"I just want to help," Hermione said in a smaller voice.

"I'll ask for it when I need it," Harry grumbled as he speared one of his tomatoes. "But right now, I don't."

He thought he saw a flicker of hurt on Hermione's face but was just too annoyed to deal with that right now. Sometimes, she just needed to learn to back off a bit.

"Would you look at that," said Fred from a few seats over.

"Yes, my dear brother," George replied happily. "It would appear that –"

"Love is in the air?" Fred finished. "Quite so. Do you think that –"

"It's unrequited? He doesn't look very happy about it, does he?" George said.

When Harry looked at them in surprise, he saw that their attention was directed towards the high table. Before he knew it, he was gawking at the objects of the twin's dialogue in unison with the entire Gryffindor house.

"I don't know who to feel more sorry for, really," Fred commented when Umbridge was moving her chair just a tad closer to Snape. The Potions Master seemed to try his very best to ignore her and focused on the lamb pot pie on his plate. Umbridge twirled a strand of loose hair around her index finger in what Harry presumed was supposed to be a flirtatious motion.

"For Snape of course," George replied easily. "You-know-who himself doesn't deserve to be approached like that –"

"By the likes of her," Fred said empathically. "You're right, of course."

Harry watched in astonishment how Umbridge took one of the potatoes on Snape's plate, then giggled about it before putting it in her mouth. Clearly having had enough, Snape snapped upright and stalked out of the great hall without finishing his meal.

Fred and George laughed heartily in response, not even stopping when Umbridge looked their way.

"Now we'll never know –"

"If the toad will turn into a princess –"

"After a kiss from a magical prince."

"Wasn't it the other way around?" Ginny asked them, frowning a bit.

"Equality, dear sister," they said in unison.

Harry didn't really see the humour in all that, though. Groaning, he hung his head in his hands. "Now he's going to be in an even worse mood than usual!" he complained. "Why can't Dumbledore ever hire someone normal for defence?"

"Oh, Harrykins, what would be the fun in that?" Fred asked.

"Yeah," George added easily. "What would Hogwarts be without her werewolves, Dark Lords and dragons?"

_Safe_.

"You're right, I guess," Harry said with a small smile. "But I'm still in deep trouble. I need to go see Snape right after dinner."

"Bring him a dinner roll or something," Fred suggested cheekily.

"Or some pie for pudding," George offered.

"I'm sure he can order more food to be delivered to his office," Hermione said nosily, apparently already forgotten her minor altercation with Harry.

"It's the thought that counts," Fred and George said.

"Even vampires have a heart," Fred added.

"Where else would you jam the stake?" George asked cleverly.

"Good point!" Fred said.

"You two are incorrigible," Ginny chided but Ron couldn't help but chuckle.

"Yeah," Harry said. "You guys have been really helpful and all. Really, you have…" he rolled his eyes good-naturedly at Hermione who smiled slightly in response. "But I really have to go now. Snape won't appreciate me lingering here much longer."

He slung his bookbag across his shoulder and turned to leave when the twins called after him.

"Harry!"

Harry turned around just in time to catch a dinner roll thrown at his head.

"Give him that," George said, winking slightly. "It might make him less cranky."

Harry chuckled and walked away, leaving the great hall behind. On his way to the dungeons, he tossed the roll in a bin somewhere. There was no way in hell that he was going to offer Snape any kind of food after that debacle he just witnessed. It would probably be a lot wiser if he would just pretend that he didn't see anything of that. Although they both knew that was a lie.

He didn't encounter a single stray Slytherin on the way to Snape's office. But that was only to be expected, really, seeing how they were probably all still at dinner. His footsteps echoed across the dungeon halls as he walked and many a disturbed portrait looked at him in annoyance as he passed them.

And then his feet had carried him all the way to Snape's office again. A bit apprehensive about Snape's current state of mind, Harry raised his fist and knocked tentatively.

"Enter," sounded Snape's voice. He didn't sound any different. Maybe he hadn't let Umbridge get to him all that much after all.

Before Snape could accuse him of dawdling, Harry entered and closed the door behind him. "Professor," he said in greeting. Snape inclined his head in response.

"I presume you read the assigned chapters, Mr Potter?" he asked.

_Straight to the point, I see._

"Yes, sir," Harry said.

"And did you understand them?" Snape asked.

Harry thought that question could have come out with a lot more bite to it. He imagined that Snape would normally be all too eager to question Harry's brain capacity. And yet, his tone was neutral.

"Most of it," Harry said. "Though it was a difficult read."

"Older texts do tend to have that problem," Snape said. "Unfortunately, Occlumency is a dying art and since no one sees fit to buy tomes containing its contents any more, there are no modern authors rising to the challenge. And even if there were, there are precious few who would even know what they're talking about."

Harry nodded in understanding. "Thanks," he then said. "For er… lending me this one."

"No thanks are required, Mr Potter," Snape said. "The sooner we can wrap up these lessons, the better I'm sure you would agree."

_Because I'm so difficult to be around, am I?_

"Now, if you would kindly put the memory of the last dinner out of your mind, we can get started," Snape said. "I would rather not view that encounter again."

Harry bit his lower lip. "Oh," he said weakly. "You knew we were…"

"Watching the show?" Snape asked sardonically. "Must I remind you that I find myself to be quite perceptive of what goes on in my direct vicinity? But even if I wasn't, it was rather difficult to ignore the commotion caused by the ludicrous bunch of howling galoots that is Gryffindor house."

Sensing no real malice behind those words, Harry chuckled. "I guess we aren't exactly what you would call 'subtle' are we?"

"Not in the least," Snape said evenly.

"So," Harry then said. "How come you're not interested in-"

"Careful, Mr Potter," Snape said silkily. "I would strongly advise you not to go there. The consequences might not be to your liking."

Harry shrugged. "I was just making conversation," he said.

"Sit down," Snape ordered. "You are not here to make conversation; You are here for your lesson. Have you decided on another element to try?"

"Yes," Harry said as he lowered himself to the ground. "I'm going ahead with fire."

"Any reason in particular?" Snape asked as he sat down as well.

"It just seems more… ah, fearsome to cross than, say, water," Harry said honestly.

"Not quite an apt comparison," Snape pointed out. "These are the arts of the mind we're dealing with. Your barrier is as strong as you manage to make it, regardless of the element."

"I know," Harry said defensively. "I did read the book. But I had decided on fire before I read those chapters and… well… it was Ron's reasoning, really. I thought it was as good a reason as any."

"It is of no matter," Snape said dismissively. "As I mentioned before, this is largely a process of trial and error. So do as you wish. Prepare yourself."

And Harry did. He closed his eyes and imagined a wall of fire roaring all around him. He could see the colours dancing in front of him. He thought of the heat those flames would produce and the shadows they would cast on his face.

At the same time, he tried banishing the thoughts of Umbridge's odd behaviour out of his mind. Not only because Snape had told him to – though Harry wasn't entirely sure if the man had been serious – but because any thoughts of Umbridge could be dangerous. Snape might find out about the blood quill, after all, and despite everything, Harry wasn't sure how the man would react to that. He already felt vulnerable enough under the Potion Master's scrutiny and wasn't likely to build on that feeling.

"Ready?" he heard and Harry couldn't help but feel grateful to Snape for not attacking him out of the blue as he had first expected he would do. Feeling calm, he nodded and only barely registered Snape's calm uttering of the spell.

His wall of fire came to life and he could actually feel the heat that was born from it. But fire lasted even shorter than air had and before he knew it, the walls all around him collapsed. The flames died and sizzled into ashes, not even leaving smoke behind.

_Damn, definitely not fire._

**No, definitely not.**

This time, Harry was less spooked when he heard Snape's voice in his mind. But it still felt very invasive and left him feeling quite uneasy.

The same dark area from before came to mind. Harry, once again, found himself floating in the nothingness of it all, vaguely aware of the dark waters beneath him. He wondered what could cause him to plummet within them and what would happen if he did.

Perhaps if he tried his best to focus on the present rather than to start losing himself in the memory of his past, there wouldn't actually be any visions Snape could see. He tried picturing Snape's office; the eerie ingredients stacked along his walls and the books that were scattered among them. Somewhere in a corner, a cauldron sat bubbling away. It was the same one that Harry had seen the previous day and he wondered just what Snape might be brewing.

**Good. But what will happen if I do this?**

Harry suddenly saw something appear in front of him. He squinted a bit at first but the object came closer to him, floating the same way he was. He soon identified it for what it was.

Boomslang skin.

_Damn it! That's unfair!_

But unfair or not, the boomslang skin brought forth another memory of Harry's second year. One he knew Snape was expecting. Colours whirled all around him and stopped to reveal Moaning Myrtle's bathroom on the second floor. Ron, Hermione and Harry sat around a bubbling cauldron while Hermione stirred its contents.

"He knew it was me," younger Harry said. "I could tell."

Panic surged in Harry even though he knew that Snape had promised not to use any knowledge he acquired from Occlumency against Harry. Quickly, he tried to recall what he had learned from the book.

**Interesting. I knew you had taken it. But to brew Polyuice potion in a deserted bathroom. Not clever at all.**

Harry tried finding Snape's presence. He closed his eyes and tried to block out all sound that came from his memory. Every now and then he seemed to catch a flutter of… something. A feeling that was very similar to the one he got when Snape swept past in his billowing robes. But before he could zero in on it, it vanished again.

_Damn it._

**What's wrong, Mr Potter? Push me out. Unless you want me to see more.**

_I'm trying!_

He really was. The book said to identify the energy that wasn't your own. To find its hiding place. And once you did that, you were supposed to be able to will it out of your mind. Easier said than done. Exactly how he was supposed to identify someone with far more experience than him was beyond him.

Frustrated, he opened his eyes just in time to see the colours disperse and take form again.

**Repel me from your mind.**

But Harry couldn't. The scene reformed to that same bathroom right at the moment the golden trio took the potion.

_It's not what it looks like._

**I care not, at this point. Focus harder on the task at hand.**

This mental back and forth was not only weird and very personal. It was also exhausting. Harry wanted nothing more than to shoo Snape's presence from his mind but he soon found that no book could make up for his lack of experience. Instead, he tried one of the other techniques the book had suggested.

He closed his eyes and ignored the scene around him. He blocked his senses to the best of his abilities and simply thought of what he was doing in the moment. He remembered his breathing. He focused on the feeling of his hands resting on his knees. He listened to the bubbling cauldron that was left behind in reality, where he could hear it.

**Admirably done, even if that wasn't the assignment.**

Harry blinked in surprise when he heard the soothing voice of Snape, carrying a compliment. But he hadn't left his mind yet. Instead, he was back in that dark abyss where he waited for another memory to spawn. He tried not to allow one to flow forth, though. Not without prompting.

**One more try, don't you think?**

Harry focused harder on keeping his mind in the present. He didn't want to succumb to that same trick again. Not if he could help it. He closed his eyes inside his mind to try and not fall for Snape's tricks.

The smell of herbs. The feel of his robes. The greenish light coming from the cauldron simmering in the office.

And then it felt as if a bucket of water had been dumped on his head. Spooked, his inner self looked up only to find himself dripping wet. Despite knowing that it wasn't real, it felt cold and Harry couldn't help but shiver as a new memory started to form.

When the colours came into focus this time, Harry found himself in the Dursley bathroom in the summer that followed his third year.

_That's enough. Stop this._

**I suggest that **_**you**_** be the one to stop this.**

Harry clenched his fists, not sure if they clenched in reality as well. He watched how his slightly younger self sat stoically in a corner as his uncle drew a bath with what he knew to be ice-cold water.

Harry hadn't been able to find Snape before so now he took on an entirely different approach. One that probably would have Snape scoff. But it was all he could think of. He started opening closets and drawers. Started looking in the sink and underneath the carpet. Underneath the stack of towels. He didn't know in what shape or form Snape would have invaded this memory but whatever it was, it was probably something that was out of place.

The entities belonging to the memory didn't seem to realise anything was going on. Instead, they carried on as if nothing strange was happening.

Vernon was grinning now. From ear to ear. As if he was a kid getting what he wanted most for Christmas.

**You're on the right track. Keep going.**

Words of encouragement Harry had never expected to hear from Snape. But he imagined that the man didn't want to see this memory play out any more than Harry did. After all, he was not quite as sadistic as Harry had always suspected him to be.

As Harry carefully inspected the medicine in the cabinet, he was vaguely aware of Vernon strutting past him and grabbing his younger self by the collar. He could hear the frantic turning of a doorknob, knowing full well that it had been locked. And Vernon had pocketed the key.

_Damn it! Not a damn thing out of place._

Harry scanned the contents of the bathroom further, starting to feel more and more desperate when Vernon dunked younger Harry's head into the bathtub, holding him under with one meaty hand. No matter how much younger Harry struggled, it didn't matter. Not one bit.

He hadn't wanted to watch. To see all of that play out. And that's probably exactly why he hadn't noticed the oddly placed rubber duck floating happily in the tub. Petunia had never owned a rubber duck in her life. It was too whimsical, Harry had once heard her proclaim. But there it was, floating along the wavy bathtub water, visually bobbing up and down as it ignored the weakening of younger Harry's flails.

Vernon pulled younger Harry back up, shouted in his face that he was a little freak and dunked him back under, beginning the whole thing anew. Present time Harry lunged forward and grabbed the rubber duck. He was all too eager for this ridiculous memory to be over.

_Now what?_

**Recognise that it doesn't belong. Alter the memory to its original form. Know that the item has to vanish.**

It sounded vague and odd but somehow it made sense. Harry focused on what he had been told and before he knew it, the rubber duck in his hands vanished. A moment later, so did the memory.

When Harry next opened his eyes, he was finally back in reality. He found himself to be out of breath and ran a hand through his sweaty hair. Infuriatingly, Snape did not seem out of sorts at all. Except for that furious look in his eyes.

Harry knew what the man must be thinking. But he really didn't want to get into that now. Instead, he allowed himself to lean back until he was leaning on his elbows, barely keeping himself upright. Perhaps Occlumency was a bit much two days in a row.

"That was well done of you," Snape said, his voice a calm ocean that didn't waver under the storm in his eyes. "You made progress."

"Only because you made it easy for me," Harry replied knowingly, not quite meeting Snape's eyes. "I doubt that you would have been so easy to get rid of had you really fought back."

"I admit that I didn't exactly resist all that much," Snape replied. "But it was only your first lesson. I assure you that by this time next month, I will be putting a lot more force into my attacks."

"How do you even know what a rubber duck is?" Harry asked, the question slipping off his tongue before he had well realised it.

"I collect them," Snape deadpanned. Harry's head shot up so fast in surprise that he almost gave himself whiplash. Dumbfounded he stared at Snape in disbelief until he noticed the small quirk of the man's lips.

"Oh sure," Harry then said sardonically. "Maybe I should custom order one with a little cauldron and stirring rod for Christmas."

"Who says I don't already own one of those?" Snape replied easily. "But if you must, I still miss one with a broomstick and a snitch."

Harry laughed. "A duck can fly! Why would it need a broomstick?"

"Quidditch regulations," Snape said easily, dusting himself off as he got up from the floor. "All players are supposed to use a broom, regardless of their innate abilities."

He then offered Harry a hand who took it almost automatically. Snape pulled him upright easily before motioning towards the same rock hard chair from the day before.

Harry groaned. "Do I have to?" he complained.

"You most certainly do," Snape said easily, already taking his own seat. "Remember what I said yesterday. Trust and knowledge of your thought patterns are very important to make this entire enterprise succeed."

"I still think you might be making that up," Harry mumbled. "Or exaggerating it at the very least."

"Sit down, Mr Potter," Snape ordered.

Even if they had been jesting just a moment before, that tone of voice reminded Harry that he was, in fact, talking to Severus Snape. The dungeon bat of Hogwarts. This was not a man that liked to be crossed and when he gave you an order, you would do well to follow it.

He sat down, staring stoically at Snape with folded hands. The man steepled his fingers much as he had the day before and watched Harry carefully for a moment before speaking.

"The first memory," he said. "As you probably realised, I sparked it by using the boomslang skin as a catalyst."

"That was pretty Slytherin of you," Harry mumbled.

"Since you had the presence of mind not to think of anything but the present, I had no choice but to show you how easy it is for your enemies to prompt anything they'd like as soon as they get past your walls. Had you shown me a completely harmless memory from the beginning, I might not have been able to find out what I wanted to know so easily."

"But I didn't know what memories might follow up on what I would show you," Harry argued. "I thought it was better not to show you anything at all."

"I presume you now understand the folly of that?" Snape asked. "Not only is it easier for a Legilimens to extract what they wish to know this way, but it also sends the message that you know some Occlumency. Something we would both prefer the Dark Lord knows not."

"I understand," Harry said.

"The way you cancelled that memory was rather well done, I must say," Snape then continued and Harry looked at him in surprise. "It's an appropriate defence when ensconced in memories that aren't particularly emotional. Though I assure you that it wouldn't have worked on the third one."

"No," Harry said softly.

Snape sighed softly, almost imperceptible but Harry noticed. He chose not to mention it, though.

"First of all, I feel the need to point out that it was not my intention to spark anything like that," Snape said. "I used water because you had blocked your own vision."

Harry nodded dumbly.

"It took you a while to find my presence," Snape then said. "But eventually you realised where I was. Tell me, was it because you knew the rubber duck didn't belong or because you sensed a different energy?"

"Aunt Petunia doesn't like rubber ducks," Harry said.

"Ah," Snape said. "As I expected. While that works just as well, that particular course of action won't work when the memory is somewhat vaguer. Or perhaps when it plays out someplace you don't know as well. You will need to work on identifying foreign energies as well and the first step to do that is by recognising your own. We'll work on that next time."

"Yes sir," Harry said. Hoping that was the end of it, Harry moved to get up but Snape held up his hand.

"We are not done here, Mr Potter," he said.

Harry sighed heavily. "Is this really necessary, sir?" he asked.

"Yes," came Snape's curt reply. Knowing better than to fight the inevitable, Harry sat down properly again and looked at the Potions Master.

"Your relatives are horrible people," Snape said matter-of-factly. "What had you done to elicit such treatment?"

"Accidental magic," Harry muttered, not wanting to get into the details.

"You understand that nothing warranted such vile behaviour, I hope?" Snape asked. Harry was surprised not to hear pity in that voice. Somehow, it bolstered him.

"I suppose," he said uneasily.

Snape sighed and ran a hand through his hair. A sign of unease that he never showed in class. "I wish you would understand, Mr Potter, that those muggles abused you for no good reason. Not that there is ever a good reason for such things, mind you."

Harry fidgeted with the hem of his shirt, really not wanting to have this conversation.

"I truly wish you would talk to someone about this. I understand that I might not be your first choice but surely your head of house –"

"What's there to talk about?" Harry snapped. "They hated me ever since I was dropped on their doorstep because I'm responsible for my parents' death. They were probably always afraid that the same would happen to them and who could blame them, really? People always end up hurt around me. Even you almost got killed by Remus!"

Snape seemed to flinch back a bit by that statement before regaining his composure. "The consequences of my own actions are not yours to carry," he said easily. "You didn't force my hand to be there nor did you instil in me the duty to protect the students of this school. It is foolish to take the blame for such things."

Snape looked him over carefully before continuing. "But I can see that those muggles nurtured that kind of thinking, didn't they? To think that I ever thought you arrogant…"

"Sir?" Harry said carefully. "I really don't want to talk about it right now, alright? But I – I promise that I'll give it some thought."

Snape regarded him carefully. "Very well," he said eventually. "Make sure that you do. And keep your schedule clear for next Tuesday evening."

"Yes sir," Harry said. He got up and was about to leave when he remembered that Crabbe and Goyle had something planned that evening. He lingered in the doorway looking back at Snape who returned his stare easily.

He wanted to tell Snape. He really did. But it was no secret that the man favoured Slytherin. And if Harry told him that he had basically been eavesdropping on members of his house… no. He needed to take care of this himself. He didn't want to endanger the rapport he and Snape had built so far. However small and awkward it was at the moment.

"Was there something more you needed?" Snape asked after a long moment of silence.

Harry smiled and shook his head. "No sir," he said. "Thank you for these lessons."

"There's no need for that," Snape said dismissively. "I'll see you in class, Mr Potter."

Harry nodded and took off, rushing to get back to Gryffindor Tower.

Tonight at midnight. That's when _it_ was going to happen. Whatever it was. But Harry would not allow it. If those two numbskulls were behind the disappearance somehow, Harry would stop them. Because no matter how you looked at it; in the end, these things always seemed to be up to him.

* * *

_Next chapter you'll finally find out what those Slytherins are up to. Tune in again on Friday and don't forget to review! Haha, thanks for reading._


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

It was a little past eleven. Everyone else in Gryffindor tower had already sought the sweet refuge of deep slumber but Harry still sat alert on his bed, a lumosed wand aimed at some spare bit of parchment.

The Marauder's map.

His drapes were closed so he wouldn't disturb anyone and he kept the light of his Lumos as low as he could while still able to read the names he was watching. Most of them were unmoving and Harry found that he was slowly beginning to envy the still dots that were already sleeping. Most of the teachers seemed to have retired as well. This night it was McGonagall and Filch that roamed the hallways in search of stray students. But as far as Harry could tell, there were none of those around.

Draco Malfoy's dot was in his dorm, where it belonged. It hadn't moved for a long time, much like the dots of the other Slytherins. They had all gone to bed around ten and Harry wondered if the Slytherins were assigned a bedtime.

But the two subjects of his attention were not Draco Malfoy today. Oh no. Crabbe and Goyle – in their stupidity – had made it abundantly clear that they were up to something. And if Harry could wager a guess, the scene of their crime would not be in their dorm or even in their common room. No, whatever dangerous plan they had come up with, they were going to execute it far away from the rest of their housemates. After all, they had said themselves that _it_ was dangerous.

Harry narrowed his eyes at the two dots still lingering in the common room. They didn't move much but every now and then one of them got up and paced the room. It wasn't much but enough to notify Harry that the death-eaters-to-be were still awake and waiting. Much like Harry himself was waiting. Only, he didn't know what he was waiting for.

At half-past eleven, their movement became more obvious. More frantic. It was as if they were gathering things. Absentmindedly, Harry softly bit into the side of his index finger as he contemplated what he should do next. But what else _could_ he do? His friends had made it very clear what they thought of Harry's newfound… _fixation_ as they called it. They would likely strap him to his bed if he made a move to try and catch the Slytherins red-handed.

His invisibility cloak was already waiting for him underneath his pillow, evidence that he had never intended to try and ask anyone's help in this matter. No. If you wanted something done right, you had best do it yourself.

He donned the cloak, noxed his wand and grabbed the map. As quietly as he could, he crept across the room, glad that the floor was made out of stone rather than creaky floorboards. He opened the door as far as necessary before sneaking out and closing it again with a very soft 'click'.

The fire in the hearth of the common room was very nearly extinguished, bathing everything in an eerie glow that was barely enough to make out the outlines of the furniture. Harry used it to carefully navigate his way across and breathed a sigh of relief when he made it out, ignoring the Fat Lady's confused mutterings.

Reigniting his wand, he brandished his map to make sure he would stay out of the way of the roaming adults. McGonagall was pretty far off, hovering somewhere near the Hufflepuff entrance. But Filch was closer by, apparently hellbent on catching Gryffindors who were out of bed.

Harry did a double-take when he noticed that Crabbe and Goyle had already left their common room and were now slowly walking the dungeon corridors. There was no one in sight ready to catch them. Snape seemed to be in a room wedged between his office and the Slytherin common room that might be his bedroom. Or maybe it was a sitting room of sorts and the man was simply enjoying a good book?

Harry shook his head to rid himself of anymore ridiculous stray thoughts and hurried off towards the dungeons, careful to not make too much noise as he descended into the bowels of the castle.

Thankfully he didn't even once encounter a teacher or Filch as he went. His map guided him through empty corridors and past any obstructions. Peeves was off bouncing around in some room on the third floor and the ghosts seemed to be kindly staying out of Harry's way for now. Regrettably, they didn't encounter Crabbe and Goyle either.

The two Slytherins had walked even further into the dungeons, bypassing Snape's office and had now stopped in an unused room somewhere. Harry quickened his pace.

_I should have left earlier, damn it! I should never have counted on their ability to read the clock._

It took him at least another ten minutes to finally reach his destination. But when he was finally standing in front of the door, he was overcome with a sense of trepidation. The silence was stifling and Harry knew that one of the goons would have cast a silencing charm. He hated not knowing what would be waiting for him behind that door.

_But when have I ever known exactly what I was about to face?_

Quelling the sense of fear that had dared bubble up inside him, Harry grabbed the doorknob, half-expecting it to bite him in the process and turned it. He opened the door slightly to see Crabbe's back as he was incanting something, his wand aimed at a large wardrobe. There were runes drawn on the ground in a pattern unknown to Harry in… was that blood? Candles littered the ground, their weak flames not enough to light up the entire room. Harry noticed some old student desks that were shoved against the walls, scratches and unclear writing littering their surfaces.

He had yet to see Goyle but he hadn't opened the door very widely yet. He didn't think he was spotted because otherwise, Crabbe would have reacted somehow. He opened the door just a bit more – enough for him to slip through the crack – and closed it very quietly once he was inside.

He took a closer look at the runes thinking it really would have been useful to have Hermione here with him. Not for the first time, he was regretting taking Divination over Ancient Runes. He found it very hard to believe that these two numbskulls _had_ taken that class, though. They were far too stupid for that, weren't they?

He stepped closer to the wardrobe, flinching back momentarily when he heard a loud rattle coming from inside. Was the person they had been talking about before inside? Malfoy? The moans he heard were much lower in tone than the haughty voice that was Malfoy's, though.

Confused, he checked his map again. Was Malfoy still in his dorm?

He froze when he saw that he was, in fact, not. But he was also not in this room. Oh no, he was out in the hallway and coming this way.

Unexpected pain exploded from the side of his face when a fist connected with his eye socket.

_Goyle! But how?_

When Harry came crashing to the ground, he noticed only barely that his left foot had now been revealed. He tried to hide it underneath his cloak again but it was too late. Goyle smirked menacingly and snatched at Harry's general direction, soon making contact with the cloak. Harry grabbed his wand tighter and muttered a blasting hex that threw Goyle backwards but didn't stop him from holding on tight to Harry's most precious heirloom. The result was that Harry soon became visible, now staring in bewilderment at the Slytherin who had managed to catch him off guard.

_How the hell did he know I was here?_

Crabbe, strangely enough, hadn't even twitched at the commotion behind him. He kept muttering incantations under his breath, his posture much more certain than his voice was.

"You seem surprised, Potter," Goyle sneered. "What's the matter? Did you think you were going to be able to ambush us, hm? Get us in trouble, somehow?"

Harry narrowed his eyes at him. "I'm not going to let you endanger anyone here," he said, raising his wand just a little higher. He eyed the cloak that Goyle was still holding tightly in his left fist, clenching it as if it was a baby rabbit he was squeezing the life out of. "Not even Slytherins."

The victorious smile on Goyle's face was not the response Harry had anticipated.

_Something's not right here._

He was about to do something about Crabbe, thinking that maybe tackling him in a very mugglish way would break his focus as well as allow Harry to keep his wand trained on Goyle. But that particular plan had formed too late. Crabbe had stopped incanting and had now turned to look at his partner in crime rather nervously. A loud banging emanated from within the wardrobe and Harry was sure that the piece of furniture would not be able to hold on for much longer.

"Who is in there?" Harry demanded.

"Poor Potter," Goyle mocked. "He still doesn't get it, does he? And they call _us_ dumb."

Crabbe chuckled nervously in response. Goyle manoeuvred himself until he was right in front of the wardrobe. He tossed the invisibility cloak on the floor and inclined his head towards Crabbe who opened the door. "No one's in here. Not a person, at least," Goyle said and then took a bow as if he had reached the conclusion of a grand play. "Have fun!"

And then he unlocked the wardrobe and dashed past Harry, exiting from the room with Crabbe in tow. The door fell closed behind him with a loud bang and Harry could hear the sound of the lock shutting him in.

A smarter person would probably have unlocked the door and bolted. If he was Hermione, he would probably go straight to Snape seeing as he was the closest teacher at present. Even Ron would probably know better than to linger here. But…

There weren't many things that Harry had from his parents. When it came to his dad he had inherited his hair and quidditch skills. But when it came to material possessions, the cloak was all he had. Sure, the map had been created by the marauders but the cloak… that had been James' alone. There was no way in hell that Harry was going to forego it just because the two most dim-witted Slytherins there were had decided to… Harry still wasn't sure what they had been doing here if he was entirely honest.

With all the banging the creature inside had done, Harry would have expected the door to fly open from the moment it had been unlocked. But instead, it opened agonizingly slowly with a loud creak that emphasised the wardrobe's age. Dark smoke whirled outward and Harry saw one large hand, almost like a claw extend towards him.

When the temperature dropped several degrees and the feeling of hopelessness and fear overcame him, Harry couldn't help but smile a little despite himself. He hardly thought Crabbe and Goyle had summoned a real-life dementor so this was probably a boggart. Hadn't those idiots learned by now that Harry could repel those without a problem?

He focused on the memory of Sirius offering Harry to stay with him over the summer, thinking about him genuinely wanting Harry there with him. It filled him with the familiar warmth he needed, prompting his magic to extend toward his wand in expectation.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

Harry vaguely wondered just how far the sound of his voice would carry as the shimmering stag erupted from his wand, galloping towards the dementor as it emerged. It lowered its head to try and fight with its antlers, bucking as it practically collided with the wardrobe.

There was a shriek of agony but the feeling didn't go away. Nor did the boggart. The wardrobe collapsed into itself to reveal the full form of what Harry could only describe as a grotesque impersonation of a dementor.

Its black cloak was stained red, as was the smoke that always circled around it. Harry now noticed that he could smell the coppery scent of blood. Its large claw-like hands were nothing more than bone, cracking with every small movement of its fingers. Harry had never seen a dementor's eyes before and had assumed that they had none but this one stared at him with yellow orbs, slitted pupils narrowly breaking them in half. They seemed so dry that Harry half-expected them to crumble into dust as he watched.

And then there was its voice. It didn't suck with a gurgling sound that made Harry's hair stand on end. No, instead, the sound it produced was almost that of a song. Hauntingly beautiful but devoid of words. Harry knew then that this was no boggart. He had never seen this creature before and therefore couldn't have feared it. But Harry expected that after this encounter, his boggart might change.

_If I survive this._

His Patronus kept charging at the dementor-like creature and seemed to push it back somewhat whenever it did but it kept coming back. Not only that but the more the stag attacked, the more its effect seemed to wane.

Voices started to force their way into Harry's head.

"_Little freak!"_

"_Go sit in your room and pretend that you don't exist."_

"_You killed my sister!"_

Harry tried Occluding; tried desperately to shield his mind from the unwelcome intrusions while still keeping an eye on the advancing creature but it was no good. His immature walls shattered immediately.

He grabbed hold of the doorknob and tried twisting it while never averting his gaze.

_You idiot! It's locked!_

"Incendio!" Harry then shouted, aiming his wand at his adversary. "Aguamenti! Bombarda! Reducto!"

Spell after spell bounced off the creature, none of them leaving so much as a mark.

"_Your parents never wanted you."_

"_Everyone always dies because of you!"_

"_No one loves a freak."_

Harry dodged to the right before the creature was able to put its hands on him but it merely turned around with minimal effort, gliding after Harry with an eerie peacefulness that made Harry shudder. His Patronus had now vanished and Harry didn't see the point in summoning it again. Feelings of pain, bitterness and solitude washed over him in powerful waves that threatened to drown him. He gasped when the creature's hand grabbed his wrist and had enough presence of mind to wonder how such hands could feel so warm. He struggled to break free but didn't have the strength.

It seemed to be calling to him as it sung what sounded like a sad lullaby. Harry glanced at the door again but his legs didn't move anymore. The room had become so frigid that he was starting to shiver uncontrollably. But the creature was almost beckoning.

_It is so… warm._

Harry blinked, noticing that tears stained his face. He didn't know why or when they had appeared but couldn't wipe them away. His left hand was caught and his right hand still held his wand, though it was trembling.

"Relashio," Harry whispered but his spell bounced off the creature as all his others had.

"You bring nothing but pain to this world, Harry."

_Was that me? Or did it just say something? It sounded like a woman._

"If you come with me, you can't hurt anyone anymore."

Harry tried to take a step back but couldn't. Instead, the creature advanced on him. The sickening scent that clung to its – her? – robes was nauseating and made Harry recoil. If only slightly. And then it wrapped its bony arms around Harry, holding him strongly in its grasp. Harry tried to break free but it was much stronger than he would ever be.

"Come with me. It's alright. Everything will be better. You'll see."

Harry couldn't struggle anymore. He lost himself in the warmth of the embrace, shielding him from the freezing temperatures around him. His mind seemed murky, dark clouds immersing his thoughts and memories until nothing was left but the knowledge that he would know pain if he left. And who would ever want pain? It was alright like this, wasn't it? He looked up. The creature had closed its eyes and was now leaning in, one bony hand caressing Harry's cheek in a way that he had always longed for. Painfully so. The smoke swirled around him and he closed his eyes, surrendering himself to its kiss. It was all he wanted right now.

The door was slammed open with enough force to dent the stone wall behind it. Harry opened his eyes in surprise to see Draco Malfoy standing there, his wand firmly in his hand.

_He wants to take this away from me._

Harry struggled but the creature didn't release him. Instead, it turned its head towards the intruder and sang another song.

Harry didn't' see much of what happened next as magic seemed to ensconce him. He grabbed his wand tighter but no spells came to mind in the haze that was his memory. And then he was released into the bitter cold of the world, collapsing to the floor as he was overcome by a tremendous sense of loss so heavy that it made him want to scream. Someone grabbed him and dragged him along. Someone that wasn't as warm as _it_ had been. Harry struggled meekly but to no avail. Within seconds, he was pulled out of the room. The door was slammed shut again and Harry became vaguely aware of an array of locking spells being cast.

His entire body was shivering with cold, his every muscle aching and crying out in pain he hadn't been aware of before. Or maybe it hadn't been there yet? He opened bleary eyes to look at Draco Malfoy who was finishing the last of his spells before sliding down the wall, panting hard.

"Why?" Harry asked, his voice much raspier than it should be.

Malfoy glared at him with enough ferocity to darken the edges of Harry's vision. On second thought, that was probably not Malfoy's doing. His eyes focused on Malfoy's mouth when the boy started talking but instead of his voice, he heard a faint ringing in his ears. That and the sound of the lullaby of the not-dementor, its hauntingly beautiful melody one he already missed.

* * *

Harry hadn't even registered that he had lost consciousness. But he must have because when he next opened his eyes, he found himself in the hospital wing. Again! He registered the sound of voices before anything else.

" – explanation unless you want to see yourself expelled as well!" That deep, angry voice surely belonged to Snape. He was yelling about expulsion again though he never had expelled Ron or him for real.

_All bark and no bite._

He wondered what poor Gryffindor was facing Snape's wrath now when he recognised a second voice. "I didn't know what they were up to, I swear." That was Draco Malfoy's drawling voice without a doubt.

_Right. He had been there, hadn't he?_

"Look, Severus –"

_Oh, Severus is it?_

"You know them. They're a bunch of idiots. I know they didn't expect to conjure… that when they were looking up the runes. But they made a few mistakes."

"The summoning of a dementor would not have put me into any higher spirits," Snape snapped dangerously.

"Potter knows the Patronus charm, though," Malfoy said in defence.

Someone sighed.

"I find it hard to comprehend what exactly you expect from me," Snape said dangerously.

"I want you to reconsider expelling them," Malfoy said pleadingly.

_Those knuckleheads are getting expelled? Good!_

"They almost killed someone," Snape snarled. "They should really be sent to Azkaban instead, wouldn't you agree?"

"I got there in time, though," Malfoy pointed out meekly. "I saw their notes and I realised what would happen if they went through with the ritual. So nothing happened. Not really."

"And that makes it alright, I suppose?" Snape responded. "I don't condone _attempted_ murder either, Mr Malfoy. Our house already has a bad enough reputation. Do you have any idea what it took for me to banish that… miscreation?!"

"You know," Malfoy drawled. "It's really Potter's own fault for being out after curfew. And in the dungeons no less."

Snape growled. "Do you take me for a fool?" he asked. His voice sounded dangerously low. One wrong word, Harry knew, and the man would explode. "One look in those idiots' minds was all I needed to see their dunderheaded plan. Making mentions of someone going through _something dangerous_, always when they knew Potter was somewhere nearby? Honestly, I would expect more finesse from Slytherins. What, I ask you, was even the point?"

A moment of silence before Malfoy replied. "You were in their minds, you tell me." He actually sounded affronted.

"Don't you dare look at me like that," Snape snarled. "If I hadn't done that, I would have to deliver them to the headmaster. And what do you expect he would have done if he found out what happened to his golden boy?"

"I get it, alright?!" Draco said. "But I think that since I intervened, you should cut them some slack. You know what their parents will do if –"

"The fact that you acted like a Gryffindor does not diminish their crimes," Snape said icily.

There was a long moment of silence then. Harry wondered just how insulted Malfoy was after that last comment.

He flinched when a hand suddenly covered his forehead. It felt warm to the touch. His eyes fluttered open and he looked into the dark eyes of Severus Snape. He immediately recognised that he had been caught. Instead of babbling like an imbecile, he decided to stay quiet and wait.

"How are you feeling, Mr Potter?" Snape asked evenly.

"I'm fine," Harry said automatically but Snape narrowed his eyes at the response.

"And how do you feel after taking a few seconds to think that over?" he asked sardonically.

Harry sighed but didn't snap back the way he would have liked. In truth, he felt drained. Exhausted, really. He was still cold, despite the numerous blankets that were covering him, his body still ached everywhere and above all else, he couldn't help but feel strangely depressed about the whole situation. He mentally kicked himself for that last thought, though. There was no point in self-pity and he was definitely not going to show such weakness in front of two Slytherins. Never mind that Malfoy had apparently gotten him out of there.

"I'm a bit cold and tired," Harry said, hoping that was enough to sate Snape's curiosity. He glanced at Malfoy who was eyeing him with disdain. Snape seemed to pick up on Harry's discomfort.

"I've heard enough out of you for one day, Mr Malfoy," he drawled. "Get out."

Malfoy huffed and made to leave before turning back to Harry.

"One thing," he said. "I got you out of there, Potter. Think about that before you agree with the professor's idea that Crabbe and Goyle should be expelled." He didn't wait for a reply but all but fled the infirmary.

"Mr Malfoy seems to think you have any say in the matter," Snape said after Malfoy had gone. "Which I assure you is not the case."

Harry shivered a bit and pulled the blankets up to his chin, trying to be subtle about it. Judging by Snape's sharp look he had not succeeded. It felt a bit unreal, really, to be sitting here again with Snape at his bedside. He had so many questions. Why was he here? What was that thing in the dungeons? How had Malfoy fended it off when nothing Harry did was good enough? Did Snape get rid of it or was it still waiting behind that door?

Instead, he settled on the generic, "What happened?"

Snape took a seat then, sitting rigidly as if making sure that he could leave at a moment's notice. There was obvious anger in those eyes but there was something else instead. Something Harry couldn't quite put his finger on.

"Messrs Crabbe and Goyle thought it would be droll to play – what they called – a prank on you," he said matter-of-factly. "They made you overhear a couple of conversations that would instil your… Gryffindor recklessness, as I'm sure you overheard earlier."

_I can't help it if you decide to have a shouting match so close to my bed._

"So there's nothing going on with Malfoy?" he asked.

"Nothing out of the range of your typical adolescent challenges," Snape drawled. "Certainly nothing that would warrant a blood ritual of any sorts."

Harry gulped. "Blood ritual?" he echoed. "Where did they get the blood?"

"It would appear that Hagrid is missing a couple of chickens," Snape said evenly. "I can only imagine where they ended up."

"Oh," Harry said weakly. "A prank, you said. Just to get to me?" His fists clenched into the top blanket. "They thought that, since they don't like me very much, it would only be fair to try and kill me?" He hated how soft his voice sounded but he couldn't help it. He knew there was animosity between him and most of the Slytherins in his year. Hell, he knew that some of their parents were death eaters. But this? Hogwarts was his true home and while there had been some… accidents in the past, he had assumed that he could at least trust the students to not actively seek his demise.

_It's time to wake up and smell the dragon dung. There are enemies everywhere._

A low growl broke Harry out of his reveries. He looked at Snape to find the man looking deeply upset. "Sir?" he asked despite himself. "Are you alright?"

Snape scoffed. "You needn't worry about me," he said harshly. "Not even for one second. Do you even realise what almost happened? Where you would be now had Mr Malfoy not pulled you out of that room?"

"Of course not," Harry bit back. "I've never even seen one of those… er…"

"Exspetor," Snape said dryly. "It is a more ancient relative of the dementor. It's much more fickle and cannot be tamed by wizards which is why you don't see them in the hallways of Azkaban. They are very rare and don't often show themselves. It doesn't surprise me that you don't know them. They are not part of your curriculum."

Harry shuddered at the memory of the creature. "My Patronus didn't work on it."

"No," Snape agreed. "It wouldn't, would it? An exspetor doesn't feed on negative memories per se. It feeds on feelings of despair. Of immense longing. Of hopelessness."

Harry frowned and looked away. He didn't want Snape to think of him as a basket case. "I suppose everyone has some of those feelings," he mumbled stupidly.

"Some more than others," Snape allowed. "After bringing those emotions to the forefront of your mind, it will pretend to comfort you. Soothe you. To give you what you've always longed for."

Harry didn't respond. He still remembered that feeling the exspetor gave him. He couldn't help but miss it. "And then it takes your soul from your body, much like a dementor, and devours it," Snape continued. "What that feels like, no one knows but it can't be pleasant."

"Remind me to send Malfoy a fruit basket, then," Harry said dryly. "Though I still don't understand why he bothered helping me."

"It was no act of altruism, I assure you," Snape said, sounding angry again for some reason. "When he saw what his friends were up to, and noticed that they made some glaringly obvious mistakes in their calculations, he thought it prudent to save their hides."

Harry frowned, thinking that over. "This situation is mental," he grumbled. "What were they trying to do if they didn't want to summon that… thing?"

"The exspetor," Snape supplied. "they were trying to summon a dementor instead, thinking it would frighten you." He sighed. "You would think that they learned their lesson in their third year but they obviously forgot that you can summon a Patronus."

"Or they were counting on it," Harry then said. "Maybe they really _didn't_ want to kill me. Not really. They probably just wanted to scare me or something."

Snape scoffed and Harry couldn't help but feel as if he took personal affront to that. "Are you genuinely attempting to have me diminish their punishment?" he asked. "These two goons could have bestowed upon you a fate worse than death!"

"I'm used to it, Professor," Harry said, trying to sound as cheerful as he could. "At least this time it was an accident."

"An accident!" Snape echoed.

_What are you getting so upset about?_

Harry frowned and Snape must have seen his expression because he steeled his own into a mask of neutrality again. Harry thought it remarkably strange that this situation – which had happened to Harry, not Snape – would rattle the man so immensely.

"They're to stay at school for one more week," Snape then said, his voice a perfect show of emotionless. "Under my very careful scrutiny. In that time they will be… _urged_… to do something to provoke expulsion which I will happily have Professor McGonagall grant them."

Harry didn't need to ask him why that was. He was sure that if Voldemort found out Snape had expelled Crabbe and Goyle just like that, he would be punished severely for it. Especially when it came to light that he did so because of an attack on Harry Potter.

"If you would seek the assistance of the ministry to punish them for their abhorrent crimes, of course, I wouldn't fault you," Snape ended up adding. He even seemed sincere.

"I wouldn't want to endanger you like that, sir," Harry said honestly. "I'm sure they didn't mean it. But won't Malfoy report to his dad about this?"

Snape scoffed again. "And reveal that he actually went so far as to save you?" he asked. "I think not. He'll keep this quiet if he knows what's good for him."

There was a moment of silence in which Snape got up from his seat and started sorting through the potions on Harry's nightstand, picking one out and scrutinizing it closely. Harry thought that a bit redundant seeing how Snape had probably brewed it himself.

"Sir?" Harry asked carefully. Snape looked at him with an exhausted expression and Harry wondered just what it had taken for him to banish the exspetor. "Why are you taking this so hard?"

"Why wouldn't I?" Snape snapped. "Because they're Slytherins and you're a Gryffindor?"

"Well… yes," Harry said.

Snape clicked his tongue and shook his head. "Slytherin does not mean evil," he said. "And I don't want students like _them_ degrading our house even more."

Harry recognised that reason for what it was. Misdirection. Snape was lying but he couldn't figure out why.

"Drink this," Snape said, finally extending the potion towards Harry. "I can see that you're still in pain. You need a good night's rest."

"But I have more questions," Harry said eagerly.

Snape sighed in exasperation. "Sleep first," he said irritably. "Ask your questions later. Though I would think you know enough for now."

Harry frowned but didn't object anymore. Snape seemed to have run out of patience and Harry wasn't about to test him. He nodded and took the potion. Snape took the empty vial from him and pocketed it. "Good night, Mr Potter," he said and then swept out of the room.

Harry closed his eyes again, welcoming the creeping slumber as it took hold of him. He couldn't quite shake the idea that something was wrong. That he had unsettled Snape somehow. But he didn't have the time to contemplate that anymore. He just couldn't fight the dreamless sleep that tugged at his consciousness and really, he didn't want to.


	19. Chapter 19

_Thank you all again for your reviews! I didn't leave an A/N last time because without it, the story was exactly 93000 words long and I didn't want to mess with that. Sorry if that brought any confusion in regards to the update date which is, incindentally, today! So enjoy!_

* * *

**Chapter 19**

Since exhaustion still tugged on Harry's mind whenever he awoke and the cold was only dissipating very slowly, it was only natural that he hadn't thought about the detention he was supposed to have with Umbridge. Friday passed by easily enough with Harry still holed up in the infirmary. Hermione dutifully brought him his homework and Harry, who didn't have much else to do at that moment, took advantage of the peace and quiet to do as much of his homework as he could before slipping back into a deep slumber. Sleep would ambush him out of nowhere still which was probably the main reason Pomfrey didn't want him to leave.

Since the weekend followed shortly after, Pomfrey hadn't deemed it necessary to discharge Harry just yet but had rather taken the opportunity to keep him a bit longer and pour so many potions into him that Harry wondered if the stock was nearly empty. She didn't allow him to suffer from a shortage of food either, even if Harry didn't feel particularly hungry.

He was intensely grateful that Pomfrey hadn't looked past his immediate issues to find out that there was a glamour on his right hand. When Harry looked at it at times he was all alone, he noticed that the wound was nearly gone anyway and would probably not be found out unless under close scrutiny. Just to be on the safe side though, he reapplied the glamour. The problems that particular wound would help surface were not worth it.

It was on Sunday evening that Harry was finally allowed to go back to the tower. He had been able to catch up on the backlog in his homework by then and found himself almost grateful to have wound up in the infirmary in the first place. He no longer felt excessively cold and the aches in his body were all but gone as well. Sure, he was still a bit tired but now it felt more as if he could sleep it off with one good night's rest rather than that he was in danger of falling asleep in the middle of a conversation. What he hadn't been able to shake off was that lingering feeling of hopelessness and guilt. The more time alone he had, the more he had been able to think about it. And he couldn't help but wonder when things would finally start looking up for him.

Harry wasn't escorted back to the Gryffindor tower. He felt well enough to head there by himself and really didn't need his friends to cling to him as if he were fragile and about to break.

_Even if that's sometimes exactly how I feel._

He didn't pass a lot of people in the hallway but the Slytherins he came across all seemed cowed and on edge when they saw him. Harry wondered about that. It wasn't his fault that Crabbe and Goyle had botched their prank. He didn't ask to be attacked. Why were they all looking at him as if he was the bad guy here?

He didn't get too much time to ponder that, though, when someone eventually did stop him as he walked.

"Mr Potter!" The shrill voice sounded almost surprised and Harry turned around to catch the vindictive look in Umbridge's eyes.

_Uh oh._

"Yes, Professor?" he asked, forcing his voice to sound as neutral as possible.

"And where, in Merlin's name, have you been? You didn't show up for your detention!" she demanded, sounding very accusatory.

Harry frowned. Had no one told her that he had been sick? "I was in the infirmary," he said, aware of the perplexed tone in his voice.

"No one informed me of that," Umbridge said haughtily, crossing her arms tightly.

"Well, I'm sorry about that but if you don't believe me, you can ask Madame Pomfrey," Harry offered. He really wanted to get going. It was nearly curfew. "In fact, I was only just now allowed to leave."

"Be that as it may, Mr Potter, I expect a proper advance warning if you plan on skipping my lessons or detentions," Umbridge replied.

Harry furrowed his brow and clenched his fists. "Perhaps you can teach me how to do that while unconscious?" he asked. "I don't think that's in any of my textbooks."

Umbridge huffed indignantly. "Don't take that tone with me, young man," she spat. "If not you, why haven't your friends told me about your… issues? Why, I have half a mind to –"

"You're right!" Harry interrupted hastily. He was not about to throw his friends under the bus here. It was bad enough that Umbridge was picking on _him_ relentlessly; He was not about to have Hermione or Ron submit to her punishments as well. "I'm sorry. I guess I didn't think about it."

"Your half-hearted apology is hardly good enough," Umbridge huffed. "But it will have to do, I suppose. You do still owe me a detention, though."

Harry sighed wearily. "As long as it's not on Tuesdays or Thursdays, Professor," he said. "Those have been reserved by Professor Snape until the end of the year."

"Tomorrow then," Umbridge said, her face tinged with a hint of red. "Straight after dinner. I imagine that all the good your punishment has done has nearly… faded away." Her gaze flitted momentarily to Harry's right hand and he nearly rolled his eyes at her lack of subtlety.

"I'll be there," he told her, eager to be done with her. "May I be excused now? I would like to be inside Gryffindor Tower by curfew."

"Very well," Umbridge said, waving Harry off with a lazy flick of her wrist. "Good night, Mr Potter."

Harry thought about not responding but he knew how much Umbridge liked common courtesy. It didn't matter how fake. "Good night, Professor," Harry replied lazily before rushing off with haste. He didn't want to spend another second in the presence of that vile woman. Not if he could help it.

"Harry!" The joy dripping off his friends' voices did not match his own when he stepped into the common room. He didn't know why, but while seeing them waiting for him would normally always bring a smile to his face, this time he didn't seem to care all that much.

_This happens so often, it's become routine by now, hasn't it?_

But Harry forced himself to smile nonetheless and expressed his thanks for their concern. They didn't yet know exactly what had happened; only that Crabbe and Goyle had been involved and Harry was not about to tell them more than that. In all fairness, his own mind was still reeling from the situation. Maybe an Occlumency lesson would be able to sort this whole thing out.

"I'm still a bit tired," Harry told his friends. "Is it alright if I go to sleep?"

"Well, of course," Hermione said, adopting a motherly tone that Harry knew Ron found to be annoying. "You need your rest. Up with you then. We'll see you at breakfast."

"Thanks, Hermione," Harry said with a grateful smile. Ron followed him up to their dorm and hovered annoyingly while Harry brushed his teeth.

"So…" Ron said carefully. "Are you going to tell me what those two snakes did to you?"

Harry shook his head as he looked at the sink in front of him. Not replying because of the toothbrush in his mouth was as good a reason as any.

"Why not?" Ron said. "They did something awful, didn't they? You know I've got your back. So does everyone else here. I –" Ron seemed to be struggling with his words and Harry felt stupid with his mouth full of toothpaste but too self-conscious to spit it out while Ron was speaking so earnestly.

The redhead took a deep breath and looked at Harry with great concern. "Something's off," he said. "And it's not just because you've been chasing after Malfoy or any other Slytherins. You've seemed different from the moment we saw you on the first day. Hermione doesn't want me to say anything but… we're worried about you."

Now Harry did spit out the toothpaste and rinsed his mouth. Hurriedly he cast a silencing spell over the bathroom door before addressing Ron.

"I appreciate that," Harry said carefully. "But there's no need."

Ron actually looked affronted. "Isn't there?" he hissed. "You've been going through the motions every day since the start of term. Umbridge is basically torturing you but you don't want anyone to know and now this! Why do you feel the need to protect those filthy snakes?"

"I don't want you to get in trouble in the name of petty revenge," Harry snapped.

_Besides, they'll be gone by the end of the week if I can believe Snape._

Harry didn't think Snape would appreciate it if he blabbed to even his friends about the man's intentions. While he trusted his friends, he knew that the Potions Master didn't and wouldn't much appreciate it if his life suddenly depended on the discretion of three Gryffindors instead of one.

Ron gave him a knowing look. "I don't think that's it at all," he said. "You're hiding something."

Harry didn't respond.

Ron slammed the side of his fist into the wall, making Harry take a step back in surprise. "Talk to me, damn it!" he shouted.

"Ron," Harry said in bewilderment. "You're making too much of this. Nothing's going on."

_Nothing that you can fix, anyway._

Ron narrowed his eyes. "Oh yeah?" he asked coldly. "Then what happened to my best friend, huh?"

"Nothing happened," Harry tried again.

"You keep telling yourself that," Ron said angrily. "Maybe eventually you'll believe it. But don't think that I don't know you well enough to know that something's seriously wrong."

"It's not as if last year was easy for me, you know?" Harry then offered angrily. "Or have you already forgotten about the tournament and…"

"I haven't forgotten," Ron said quietly. "And I did apologise that I was such a lousy friend to you back then. I just want to be better for you this year."

"I just need a bit of time," Harry said gently. He reached out and put a hand on Ron's shoulder. "I appreciate your concern. I really do. But this is just something I'll have to get through on my own."

Ron seemed to hesitate for a moment but then he sighed in resignation. "If you say so, Harry," he said. "But if you ever need someone to talk to, you know you can talk to me, right?"

Harry smiled automatically, the feeling of the expression mechanical. "I know," he said. "Thank you for that."

"Let's go to sleep then," Ron said. "Hermione will have my head if she knows I kept you up."

Harry nodded wearily. "That sounds great, actually."

They bid each other goodnight then. Harry could feel Ron's gaze on him long after he went to bed. Even after he had closed the curtains. It was nice to have his friend worry about him but it honestly reminded him of just how alone he was. There was no way the redhead could understand what Harry was going through. What he had gone through so far. Sure, he had braved dangers as well. Fought on Harry's side. But he hadn't experienced any of the truly devastating things Harry had gone through. And in the end, he had a family that loved him. Parents that would do anything for him. He had people to fall back on. People that understood him. Not Harry, though. After all, he was not much more than a burden to those around him.

_It would probably be better if I wasn't here at all._

Harry frowned at himself and buried his face into his pillow, banishing that stray thought as soon as it hit him. He was probably just tired. Tomorrow, everything would be better.

* * *

Harry was in a dark forest. The arboreal structures surrounding him were starting to become so familiar to him that he could navigate them blindfolded. The moon was high in the sky and cast an eerie glow on the trees. Braziers carrying green fire were spread systematically across the clearing, illuminating the runes that were steadily being carved into the stone platform beneath his feet.

Wormtail was on his knees. A position he seemed to favour while in Harry's presence. A ritual dagger was in his hand and he was painstakingly carving the necessary runes and scriptures. Tedious work, Harry knew, but he could count on Wormtail to take great care into performing this duty. He was not much but he was patient and precise.

If magic could be used to carve these runes, everything could go a lot faster. But Harry knew that any additional magic could pollute the ritual and he could not risk that happening. He would get one shot at this. One shot only.

"Have you received any more information from our spy, Wormtail?" Harry asked. "How are things going at Hogwarts?"

Wormtail looked up, a frightened look in his eyes as Harry spoke to him. It gratified him. Filled him with joy. The delicious torment his underling went through would make sure that he didn't betray Harry. Not now. Not ever.

"I have, my Lord," the insignificant worm said, bowing as deeply as he could. "Harry Potter seems distressed. He's been hospitalised more than once already, I hear."

"Has he?" Harry asked. This pleased him. "Any reason as to why that is?"

Wormtail's voice went up a notch. "I don't know the details, my Lord!" he exclaimed in a panic. "But I know that things are going according to plan. I'm certain he won't be able to cope for very long."

"You're certain," Harry mimicked pleasantly. "For your sake, I hope you're right. What of the ritual?"

Wormtail cowered in on himself. "I'm working as fast as I can, my Lord," he said. "Thanks to your aid and resources, I can do a lot more. The first circle should be complete within three days."

"Marvellous," Harry said, smiling widely. He licked his lips eagerly at the prospect of what was to come. "When this is all over, I will know power that not even Salazar Slytherin has been able to achieve. Of course, you will be rewarded handsomely, my dear Wormtail."

Harry could practically taste Wormtail's eagerness. "Yes, my Lord," he said, grovelling on the stones. "I am your most humble servant until the end."

Harry laughed. Everything was coming together. Slowly, yes. But there was no rush. All the more time to have Harry Potter fall into madness.

* * *

Harry woke up with a gasp, his hand automatically reaching for his scar. No one else in the room seemed to have stirred and Harry was almost grateful to realise that he hadn't screamed this time. When he withdrew his hand, he saw that his fingers were flecked with blood but only minorly so. There was no gushing stream this time; no blood trickling down his face. No, there were only a few drops. Not enough to wake anyone up over.

He would tell someone what happened in the dream in the morning. For now, Harry very much doubted that he could go back to sleep.

Voldemort had been talking about him. Him specifically. And while Harry was, of course, aware of the personal vendetta Voldemort had against him, it was still disconcerting to realize that he was once again part of Voldemort's masterplan. A plan that would, apparently, empower Voldemort greatly.

He mentioned a spy as well. That had to be Snape, didn't it? But the man insisted that he didn't know of any plot. Why would he say that if it wasn't true? Was it because Harry was not allowed to know what was going on?

Angrily, Harry climbed out of bed and headed down into the common room. It was still dark out and Harry figured he would have a couple of hours before morning. He grabbed a random textbook thinking the smart thing to do was to study. There was no doubt in his mind that he would fall behind again very soon. If only because he was too stubborn to give in to Umbridge.

_What's the point? Just give her what she wants. It's not as if it matters._

It shouldn't matter. Not really. Opening a random page in his book, Harry realised that he had grabbed his potions textbook. The dry material was enough to bore anyone to death. Anyone besides Snape and Hermione, that is. But he still began to read, trying his best to distract his rampant thoughts as he focused on the creation of the wit-sharpening potion.

_What an excessive amount of ginger root…_

Going through the motions, as Ron had called it, was right. Any child raised by muggles would find wizarding classes absolutely fascinating. And Harry usually still marvelled at the wonders he saw on a daily basis. Today was different, though.

He was tired and therefore cranky. He hated the defence classes in which he was allowed to do nothing but read and write, trying his best to ignore Umbridge's idiotic ideas of what makes for a decent lesson. Hermione seemed to be taking notes on something other than Umbridge's lecture as her gaze swept across the classroom. Harry found he didn't really care.

They had a free period that day, which Harry used to head up to Dumbledore's office. He knew he needed to relay his dream to him before he forgot about it completely and just wanted to get it over with, really. He didn't look forward to another meeting with Dumbledore in which the old wizard could avoid eye contact at all costs but he knew that he had no choice.

That's how he found himself on the revolving staircase that carried him to Dumbledore's office. 'Every flavour beans' had been accepted as a password this time around. It had only taken Harry three guesses.

"Good afternoon, Harry," Dumbledore greeted as Harry arrived. His door was open and he was staring out of the window. "Do have a seat. Would you like a lemon drop?" The bowl of candies shifted a bit closer to Harry, bending over a bit as if eagerly awaiting Harry's acceptance.

"No, thank you," Harry said. The bowl lowered itself with a sad tilt and scurried off again.

Dumbledore took a seat behind his desk, helping himself to a sweet – much to the pleasure of the bowl – before steepling his fingers and watching his rings with immense fascination.

_Why? Why does he do this?_

"What can I help you with?" he asked. His voice sounded light and kind as always but Harry had realised by now that that was just a front. There was more Slytherin in the headmaster than the old man let on.

"I had another vision," Harry said matter-of-factly, leaning back to try and see Dumbledore's reaction.

But the man remained ridiculously aloof. "Ah, so good of you to come," he told Harry. "You didn't fall asleep in class, I hope?"

"No sir," Harry replied. "It happened this night. But I thought it was too late to bother you with it."

"Harry!" Dumbledore exclaimed, actually sounding affronted. "You could never bother me. You may come to me whenever you have need."

_I might believe you if you had the courage to look at me._

Harry said nothing.

"Unfortunately, Severus is in the middle of teaching a class right now," Dumbledore said. "If we want him to hear this as well, we might need to postpone this meeting."

"I have no other moment today, Professor," Harry said. "Or tomorrow. Can't you just tell Professor Snape about it later?"

"Of course!" Dumbledore said easily. "If that makes it easier for you, I see no reason why not. Perhaps you would be willing to pensieve the memory for me so no details are forgotten?"

Harry frowned. "Pensieve?" he asked. "What's that?"

Dumbledore chuckled good-naturedly. "I often forget that there are things in our world you haven't heard of yet," he said.

_Sure. Rub it in._

"With a simple incantation, I can extract a memory from you to watch later," Dumbledore explained. "When Severus and I are done with it, we can restore the memory to you. There is absolutely no danger involved."

"Oh," Harry said. "That sounds useful. Why didn't you do that before?"

"Ah but during the recollection of your earlier visions, Severus has always been here to listen to the information first hand, was he not?" Dumbledore pointed out.

Harry nodded. "I suppose," he said.

Dumbledore sluggishly raised his wand. "If you'll allow me, my boy, I just need to touch your temple with my wand for a brief moment."

Harry didn't understand how despite the obvious wall Dumbledore was trying to build between him and Harry, he still trusted the old man so much. He nodded curtly and tried again for eye contact. Dumbledore's gaze was trained on his wand though and Harry quickly looked away, feeling oddly deflated.

"Think of the memory, Harry," Dumbledore said as his wand touched Harry's temple. "Allow it to fill your mind. Recall as much detail as you can."

Harry did and when Dumbledore slowly withdrew his wand, a silver strand, not unlike the colour of his Patronus, was attached to its tip. Dumbledore pulled it out and dropped it into a stone basin that was mounted to the wall behind his desk.

"Excellent," Dumbledore said happily. "I will review this with Severus at his earliest convenience."

Harry knew that he wasn't needed anymore. That he had done his part. He could leave now. But his heart felt ready to burst because of the older wizard's constant denials. He didn't know what was going on but he desperately wanted to.

"Professor?" Harry prompted as Dumbledore grabbed another lemon drop.

"Yes, my boy?" Dumbledore asked pleasantly.

"Did I do something wrong?" Harry asked, hating the way his voice sounded. "Did I offend you in some way?"

Dumbledore's expression seemed to sadden for a moment. "Of course not," he said honestly. "You could never offend me, Harry."

"Then why?" Harry asked desperately. "Why won't you even look me in the eye? Why did you send me back to people you know hated me? Why are you distancing yourself like this?"

Dumbledore sighed heavily and for a moment, Harry thought he could see the weight of many responsibilities in Dumbledore's averted eyes.

"There are things you can't understand," Dumbledore said gravely. "Not yet. But I promise you that they will become clear to you eventually."

"I'm not a child!" Harry exclaimed, realising just how petulant he sounded. "I want to know your reasons now!"

"What we want is not always what is best for us," Dumbledore said kindly. "I humbly suggest that I might know what's best a bit better as a result of my age."

"You've only known me for a little over four years," Harry countered. "Your age has nothing to do with it."

"I see no reason to continue this discussion," Dumbledore said. The tone of his voice had turned to one of steely resolve that Harry imagined not even Snape would dare to go against. "Let it go for now, Harry. I know it's a lot to ask of you right now but I request your trust. Believe that I know what's best."

"And if you don't?" Harry asked quietly.

"Then I will bear the consequences," Dumbledore replied.

_Yes but I will as well, won't I?_

Harry sighed as he rose from his seat. He couldn't stand to be here for a moment more. "I should get back to class," he said.

"Ah yes," Dumbledore replied, his tone suddenly light-hearted again. "Your studies are important, of course. Would you like some lemon drops for your friends?"

But Harry had already left.

* * *

After that debacle, Harry hadn't felt much happier the rest of the day. Hermione and Ron threw him worried glances over dinner and sometimes Harry could see the frustration on Ron's face. But it didn't matter. Ron would just have to accept that Harry didn't want him sticking his nose where it didn't belong. Some things you just didn't share with anyone. Not even your best friends.

"What are you going to do about Umbridge?" Hermione asked.

"What do you mean?" Harry retorted. "I'm going to write my lines."

"Harry," Hermione sighed. "Maybe you should just… I don't know… refuse to do them?"

Harry couldn't suppress a small smile. "Are you telling me to rebel?" he whispered. "Against a teacher?"

"Only against this one," Hermione said. "And don't act so surprised. You know how I feel about her."

"Just hex her and get it over with," Ron said grumpily. "It's not as if we _need_ her to read our textbooks or anything. Might as well not have her here at all."

"Ron!" Hermione said, sounding appalled. "Don't you think that goes just a bit too far?"

Ron shrugged. "You only need to hex her a little bit, I think," he said. "Is there a spell that would prevent her from wearing pink while inside Hogwarts?"

Hermione sighed dramatically. "No, Ron," she said. "There isn't."

"We could have McGonagall transform into a cat and claw her eyes out," Ron then suggested, brandishing his fork dramatically. 'Umbridge loves cats. She'll never see it coming!"

"Oh just brilliant," Hermione replied snidely. "And who's going to ask her, hm?"

"You, of course," Ron said. "Who better than the teacher's pet?"

"I am not –"

"Guys," Harry interrupted. "Not that this isn't wildly entertaining or anything but I have to go."

Both Ron and Hermione's faces fell.

"Oh," they said in unison.

"Should we wait for you?" Ron asked.

"Nah," Harry said, not eager to know that his friends were waiting for him outside that door. "I'm sure I can make it back on my own."

Hermione nodded. "Just… be careful, alright?"

Harry supposed that was the best advice she could give, short of Harry going to Dumbledore to complain. And it was obvious what that old coot thought of abuse.

"I'll see you guys later," Harry said. "Oh, and you don't have to wait up for me, alright?"

"Just go, mate," Ron said. "Or you'll be late and who knows what that old toad will do to you then."

Harry thought Ron had a good point and left quickly to make his way to Umbridge's office. He arrived with five minutes to spare and the door flew open as soon as he approached it.

"Ah, Mr Potter," Umbridge said coolly from behind her desk. "Good to see that you decided to make an appearance this time."

Harry bit his tongue to keep from saying something scathing and simply nodded.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Umbridge asked. "Take a seat."

Without a word, Harry sat down. The quill was already waiting for him, resting innocently atop a few pages of parchment.

Umbridge leaned against her desk, watching Harry with a thin smile. "Go on," she said. "Get started."

Harry carefully picked up the quill and looked at it, scrutinising it from every angle before setting his gaze on the horrible lady-in-pink. "No," he said.

Umbridge's smile faltered a little. "No?" she repeated. "Are you saying you refuse to do your lines?"

"I refuse to do them with this quill," Harry said. "Let me use my own and I'll write as many lines as you'd like."

"You will sit out the punishment as intended, Mr Potter, or you will get one far worse," Umbridge growled.

_Well, in for a penny…_

"Go right ahead," Harry said, leaning back and crossing his arms. "But I'm not going to inflict any more injuries on myself."

Furiously, Umbridge grabbed her wand.

"Oh, are you going to try and use Imperio to make me?" Harry asked. "Don't bother. Voldemort already tried that and if _he_ didn't succeed I very much doubt that you will."

"I have had quite enough of your impudence," Umbridge snarled. "Mentioning You-know-who in the same sentence that you use to accuse me of using Unforgivables must be the rudest thing you have done as of yet. You have clearly not yet learned not to lie!"

"When will _you_ learn to see past what the ministry tells you?" Harry asked plainly. "Tell me; Are all ministry workers as cowardly as you are or is it just you and the minister?"

Umbridge gasped theatrically. "Treason!" she uttered. "You dare insult the minister? The ministry?"

"_He_ has no problem insulting _me_," Harry replied casually. "So I don't see why not."

_Okay, you've made your point. Shut up._

"The minister has done nothing but expose your filthy lies to the public," Umbridge snarled. "If you had your way, there would be widespread panic!"

"And people would know to prepare," Harry snarled. "Whereas now we're subjected to ruddy Defence Professors that don't even know how to teach."

When Umbridge calmed down and smiled, Harry knew he had gone too far. "That's quite enough of your impudence, wouldn't you agree?" she asked. She flicked her wand and transformed one of her quills into a long, flexible stick.

Harry snorted. "Oh, you're going to beat me now, are you?" he challenged. "I guess that's a first for a defence professor. It'll be another addition to my list of why defence teachers cannot be trusted.

"Turn around and face your desk," Umbridge snarled.

"And if I don't?" Harry challenged.

"If you won't accept your punishment, I'll just have to select someone else to bear it for you," Umbridge said sweetly. "That muggleborn girl seemed eager enough to help ease your troubles. What do you think? Should I summon her? You're free to watch, of course."

"You're a monster," Harry hissed. "As much as Voldemort is."

"Turn. Around," Umbridge said through gritted teeth. She was clearly losing her patience and perhaps poking the bear was not exactly a smart course of action. So Harry turned around, ignoring the shivers that ran up his spine as Umbridge approached him.

She took both of his hands while standing behind him and placed them on the desk in front of Harry. "Don't let go until I say so," she whispered in his ear and then withdrew.

The first lash, Harry had not seen coming. Umbridge had a lot of force behind her, despite her small posture. His flesh tore open and his fingers clenched while he held on to the desk.

"Let me know when you'd prefer to write your lines, sweetheart," Umbridge said sweetly. "We can stop this right now and let you get back to it."

But Harry gritted his teeth and said nothing.

Umbridge left quite a lot of time between the hits. Sometimes several minutes at a time. All the while she tried reasoning with Harry. Tried having him give in and start writing his lines. But Harry had come too far now. He didn't want to appear weak and give in. Besides, this sort of pain he knew. This, he was used to.

About an hour later, Umbridge repaired Harry's torn clothes with a swish of her wand. Harry didn't let go of the desk yet. He just waited. He flinched when Umbridge caressed his cheek with the back of her hand before gingerly withdrawing.

"I think that's enough for tonight," she said. "Go back to your dorm. And stay out of trouble."

Harry couldn't believe it. She hadn't assigned him another detention! He was so relieved that he almost thanked her. Thinking better of it, he simply gathered his things and left, not even bothering to murmur a courteous 'good night.'

He didn't get very far before a familiar feeling washed over him. One he had only experienced once. His vision was starting to tilt and he felt dizzy. Hoping that someone might still be nearby – someone other than Umbridge – he stumbled through the hallways. But he found no one before the darkness crept up on him and took him.

* * *

_Did you have to go there, Murai? Yes. Yes, I did. _  
_I'm most excited to share the next chapter with you all, which will be on Friday. Please don't forget to leave a review! I'll be happy to hear your thoughts on the new developments._


	20. Chapter 20

_Hi guys! this is going to be a good one. This chapter has been ready for two weeks and I've been dying to share it with you. But first, according to the rules, I need to get something over with._

**Friendly recommendation:** _Can I recommend something to play in the background as you read? Search youtube for **Naruto - Sadness And Sorrow - 1 HOUR.** It should fit nicely._

**Trigger warning warning: **No, that double word is no mistake. It's intentional. I'm going to add a trigger warning beneath this warning. If you don't feel that you need a warning, I implore you to skip the trigger warning and just go ahead and read the chapter. I wouldn't want the surprise to be ruined..

**Trigger warning: **So this is the actual warning. Are you sure you want to read this? Yes? Alright, here goes. Descriptive attempted suicide coming up near the end of the chapter.

* * *

**Chapter 20**

Harry cursed loudly when he came back to awareness. He found himself in the vicinity of the Potions storeroom for some reason and noticed that his clothes were damp and dirty again. Mucus and grime clung heavily to his sleeves and the hem of his robes was soaked. He hissed when he brushed against the wall and moved his sleeve up to find a large but shallow gash marring his lower arm. It was nothing against the fresh injuries on his back, though.

Now_ what happened?_

Judging by the light pouring in through the windows, daybreak had already come. Coming to the realisation that he had lost an entire night, Harry quickened his pace to head down to the great hall. A quick Tempus cast as he ran revealed that there was still time to make it to breakfast. He didn't exactly look forward to showing up in the state he was in but he just had to know. He needed to see if anyone else had disappeared.

Harry took a few deep breaths to calm himself before going in, trying not to draw any attention to himself. He hurriedly sat down next to his friends who stopped eating and stared at him with equally shocked expressions.

"Harry!" Hermione hissed angrily. "Where were you? When you told us not to stay up we didn't expect you to stay away the entire night!"

Instead of focusing his attention on the bushy brunette, Harry scanned the table for a sign of a disturbance. "I didn't mean to," he said absentmindedly. "I er… lost some time, somehow."

_Hmmm, the Gryffindor table seems to be complete._

"Was it something Umbridge did?" Ron asked. "You didn't drink any of her tea or anything, did you?"

"She didn't drug me, Ron," Harry replied, wincing inwardly when he remembered what she _had_ done.

"Your hand looks fine," Hermione noted. "But you look – I'm sorry for saying this – like you rolled around in a swamp or something."

Harry's gaze shifted to the Ravenclaw table. The moods there still seemed sullen but they had been since the disappearance of Lisa Turpin. There didn't seem to be any additional issues bothering them.

"What's wrong?" Ron asked. "You're awfully distracted."

Harry sighed. "I just don't understand what's going on," he said, trying to keep his voice close to a whisper. "I sort of blacked out again."

Harry looked away from the Ravenclaw table in time to see Ron and Hermione exchange a glance. "What?" he asked.

Hermione extended a hand to cover Harry's. "We're just worried about you," she said.

"Yeah, Ron said as much yesterday," Harry huffed, not entirely sure why they felt the need to bring that up again.

_Hufflepuff table is acting normally._

"You should go see Madame Pomfrey," Hermione said. "It's never normal for anyone to experience black-outs like that, you know? Something could be wrong."

"That _something_ could be Voldemort," Harry hissed. "I very much doubt that Pomfrey has an ointment to ward _him_ off."

"If it is _him_, that's all the more reason to get a Professor involved," Ron interjected.

"I'm already getting Occlumency lessons twice a week," Harry pointed out. "I doubt there's much more they can do, you know?"

"You don't know that for sure –"

"Could you just tell me if you see anything off?" Harry asked wearily. "Is someone not here that should be?"

When Harry looked at the high table, he saw that Snape was throwing dark glances at the Slytherin table. Harry frowned and looked over to find Malfoy staring directly at him. The two goons that were normally at this side during meals were nowhere to be found.

Harry swallowed thickly. That didn't have to mean anything. Snape was looking for a pretext to expel them. Maybe that already happened? The Slytherins didn't seem all too worried as a group though Malfoy's unrelenting stare was disconcerting, to say the least.

"Crabbe and Goyle aren't here," Ron pointed out. "And they normally don't miss breakfast."

"Maybe they got punished for what they did," Hermione offered, echoing Harry's earlier thoughts. "It doesn't have to mean anything."

_But then why is Snape looking as if someone broke into his private quarters and painted his walls pink?_

McGonagall was murmuring something to Snape who nodded in response. Dumbledore seemed to be deep in thought, not digging into his food as he normally would. The other teachers seemed to be oblivious to anything being amiss but the longer Harry observed the Potions Master, the more he started to realise the truth.

Dumbledore verified his suspicion only moments later when he rose from his seat and demanded silence from the students. Harry didn't really listen to his opening words that spoke of regret for disturbing everyone's meal and hopes that everyone would have a wonderful day. But when Dumbledore got to the crux of the matter, Harry gave him his full attention.

"Professor Snape has informed me this morning that Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle have never made it to their dorm room last night," he said gravely. "At first, we suspected them to simply be out past curfew but a sweep of the castle has revealed that they are, unfortunately, nowhere to be found."

Suddenly, Harry's stomach felt as if it was filled with rocks. He clenched a piece of bread so hard that it crumbled onto the table. Hermione squeezed his hand but he was only vaguely aware of it.

"You might wonder why I'm telling you this," Dumbledore continued. "I don't doubt that you would become aware of the issue before the day is over, even without my help. I hope sincerely that you will, from here on out, keep a closer eye on one another. I assure you that my colleagues and I will heighten security as well but keep in mind that we are strongest when we work together. Be mindful of one another and take care of each other. We hope to find the culprit shortly."

Dumbledore didn't end with his usual pleasantries. He just sat back down, looking particularly grave.

_This can't be happening!_

"Harry," Ron said in a warning tone of voice. "Don't even think it."

"Good riddance, I say," Dean Thomas said, not at all rattled by Dumbledore's speech. "They were always up to no good, anyway."

"Yeah," Collin Creevey said easily. "Who cares about a pair of Slytherins?"

"Their friends and family probably do," Hermione said haughtily. "How can you be so blasé about this?"

"Those idiots should have been thrown out of Hogwarts ages ago," Dean said, shrugging innocently. "The only reason they keep passing their classes is because of Malfoy. And because Snape allows it."

"And so they deserve to disappear?" Hermione countered. Ron kept his mouth shut. It was clear that he was on Dean's side in this argument.

"They're probably off in the forbidden forest or something," Dean said. "Maybe Turpin's disappearance gave them the idea for a prank or something."

"That's awful!" Hermione exclaimed. "They could really be in danger!"

"What may be, may be," Dean replied. He grabbed a banana and started cutting it up in neat slices to put on his bread. Hermione huffed indignantly and crossed her arms. Harry looked back at the Slytherin table. The Slytherins did seem very quiet but, then again, they usually were. It probably had something to do with Snape and his house rules. Malfoy wasn't eating, glancing between Snape and Harry, not even flinching when Harry caught him. Did he think the two were sent to Azkaban after all? Surely, he couldn't be that stupid. Pansy Parkinson seemed ridiculously pleased about something and Harry wondered if Crabbe and Goyle were disliked even in their own house.

He knew one thing for sure, though. He had something to do with this. If only he could figure out what.

* * *

When Harry walked into Snape's office, ready for his Occlumency session, he felt extremely out of sorts and worried. The entire day he had been mulling over the idea that he had been attacking students somehow. Were the missing people even still alive? Had he locked them up somewhere?

_Maybe I sacrificed them to the centaurs for some reason._

His mood was dark enough to actually give Snape pause.

"What's wrong?" The Potions Master asked. "Surely you're not taking the most recent disappearance too hard?" the man cocked that sardonic eyebrow and Harry couldn't help but glare at him.

"And why wouldn't I?" he asked angrily. "Because they're in Slytherin? Because they attacked me?"

_Is he suspecting me?_

"Calm yourself, Mr Potter," Snape said easily. "Be assured that the headmaster is doing whatever he can."

Harry scowled and crossed his arms tightly, averting his gaze.

Snape sighed. "You wear your heart on your sleeve, you realise," he pointed out. "I can tell that something is bothering you."

"How is it not bothering _you_?" Harry snarled. "McGonagall would throw a fit if one of us disappeared overnight."

"_Professor_ McGonagall," Snape corrected. "And therein lies one of the many differences between Slytherin and Gryffindor. I may not make a great show of my concern but I assure you that it is there."

"I bet Malfoy thinks we sent them to Azkaban," Harry said bitterly.

"He did," Snape confirmed. "But I talked him out of that notion."

"It has something to do with my visions, doesn't it?" Harry asked, aware that he was speaking rather chaotically. "Did Dumbledore show you my last one?"

"_Professor_ Dumbledore," Snape corrected. "I can see that you're distressed but I will not allow your disrespect to continue. Address your professors with their proper title or I'll be forced to take points."

_Anything for the house cup._

Harry nodded curtly and Snape regarded him for one long moment.

"I saw the dream," Snape finally said. "I am yet unable to truly believe it's a true vision."

Harry stared at him, entirely perplexed. "Why?" he asked.

"For one, the Dark Lord speaks of a spy at Hogwarts that would have been in contact with Wormtail. I have had no such conversations with the traitor."

Harry huffed. "But you would lie to me about it if you thought it was necessary," he said sullenly.

"Be that as it may, I would not bring up the point simply to lie about it," Snape countered. Harry supposed that made sense.

_Unless there is a plot behind that as well._

"Perhaps we should forego our Occlumency lesson for –"

"No!" Harry interjected desperately. He needed this. He needed to be able to block Voldemort from his mind. He wanted the visions to stop. And maybe, just maybe, it would help him to figure out what else was going on. Not that he was going to ask Snape's opinion on that any time soon.

Snape looked at him strangely. "No?" he asked. "You are certain?"

Harry nodded. "I'll give earth a go, tonight," he said.

"As you wish," Snape said, motioning for Harry to take a seat on the floor and following suit himself. "Give me a signal when you're good and ready."

Harry knew he wasn't focusing well. He knew in advance that the shifty dome he formed around himself would falter. Even before he had given Snape the signal, cracks were forming in the clay-like material he imagined. But he sat there in the self-imposed darkness and nodded curtly.

It wasn't immediate but after a small, hesitant moment, he felt the appearance of Snape in his mind. He seemed to float near the edge for a while and Harry felt his unwillingness to proceed. But just when he was starting to get annoyed with his Potions Professor, a force exploded near the edge of the wall, causing it to collapse in on itself.

Instead of being plunged atop that dark lake covered in darkness, though, Harry found himself engulfed in streaks of blue that whirled around him at a slow, hypnotic pace. The streaks resembled watery paint as it was smeared onto a canvas. As Harry watched, the lines expanded and swirled as if he was watching an invisible brush in action. New colours were added from a murky green to a very light purple. They all came together to form an artist's representation of a river. A calm, peaceful river.

_What's going on?_

**I want to show you something.**

_What is… is this you?_

**It is me. And it is you. Allow me to guide you to a place you've lost.**

Harry didn't want to trust the man in his mind. Not completely. But it struck him as ridiculous to mistrust someone you could hear thoughts and feel emotions from. And right now, Snape seemed to be portraying a sense of wistfulness. Of concern. It was disorienting but Harry wanted to do this. Something in his mind urged him gently to proceed. And so he did.

He extended his hand towards the flowy lines of blue and felt himself get sucked in when he touched them. Suddenly it felt as if he was being carried by the stream of a river. But the water felt warm and he could still breathe.

Yes. He could trust this. This was alright.

Harry didn't know for how long they travelled nor how deep they went. It was almost as if he had lost all semblance of time and didn't even care if he would ever resurface. It was nice to be guided by someone like this. Even if that someone was Severus Snape.

And then the waters gently put him down into a room he had never seen before.

**Yes you have. You have merely forgotten.**

Snape did not appear in any shape or form next to Harry but his presence was still there. Other than the times when Harry was charged with looking for him to be able to cast him out, he was not hiding now. And then, figures appeared in the room, as if they were mist solidifying.

"Come here, little one," a feminine voice said softly. A woman with red hair sat on the ground, extending her arms towards a man holding a toddler. "Come to mummy!"

Harry gasped as he looked into those startlingly green eyes.

"Mum?" he asked. But he knew the answer to that. There was no mistaking the woman he had seen in the pictures Hagrid had given him. The woman from the mirror.

"I think the little tyke wants to stay with his daddy," the man – who had to be James – said teasingly.

"Ah, but _I_ have a secret weapon," Lily said mischievously. She pulled a rattle from her pocket and shook it enticingly. Small Harry stopped squirming in his father's grasp and stared transfixed at the toy with glee in his eyes.

"That's it," Lily urged. "Come here and it's all yours."

James laughed. "Not fair!" he exclaimed but he carefully let go of the toddler, keeping his hands close as the child took a couple of careful steps.

"That's it, Harry," Lily cooed. "You can do it."

Little Harry giggled and toddled even faster towards his mother. James chuckled as he watched him go.

When Harry reached his mom, she swooped him up and held him up in the air, twirling a bit as she did. "Very good job!" she exclaimed happily. "You're growing up to be such a big boy."

Little Harry babbled something incoherently and pointed at James with stern, direct motions.

"Whatever he's telling you, I didn't do it," James said, holding up his hands in surrender.

"So you _didn't_ allow him to eat an entire bowl of chocolate paste?" Lily asked evenly.

James came closer and ruffled Harry's messy hair, muttering 'traitor' under his breath.

Then Lily sat down in a rocking chair, holding Harry close in her arms. Harry grabbed a long strand of her hair but didn't tug at it. Lily caressed Harry's chubby cheek very softly and smiled down at him.

"Isn't he perfect?" Lily said to James. "I don't know what I would do without him."

James kissed Lily on her forehead and sat down in a chair next to her. Harry could feel an odd sense of annoyance in the background but it did nothing to dissipate the happiness and acceptance he felt in that moment.

His parents loved him. They cherished him. They had held him in their arms and competed for his attention. They were a family.

Lily embraced Harry a little closer and started singing softly.

"Lay down your head and I'll sing you a lullaby  
Back to the years of loo-li lai-lay  
And I'll sing you to sleep and I'll sing you tomorrow  
Bless you with love for the road that you go"

Little Harry yawned widely and closed his eyes, snuggling up to his mother.

It was all Harry had ever wanted. All he had ever craved. And here was proof that he had once had it. He had simply forgotten all about it. But he had a father there to catch him when he fell. He had a mother to sing him lullabies. If only he could have had that forever instead of winding up with…

And then the memory cracked. It didn't swirl or evaporate in the way that his others had always done. No. It cracked in half as if Harry was watching a mirror that suddenly broke. The sounds stopped completely and the three people in it didn't move anymore. They now resembled a clear yet broken muggle photograph.

**Calm down.**

But Harry couldn't calm down. And then everything shattered and Harry was propelled out of the deepest memory that had ever resurfaced in his mind. He felt Snape's presence racing right behind him as if it took everything he had to keep up with Harry. And then they landed in another memory. One that was much fresher. One that had haunted Harry ever since the end of the summer holidays.

Harry flinched when he heard a familiar voice utter the cutting words that had shredded him to the core.

"Do you _still_ think you're innocent?" Petunia asked darkly. "You're not. Without you, your mother and father would still be alive. And to think that she never even wanted you."

An immense sensation of loss overcame Harry as he stared into those hate-filled eyes of his aunt. That's right, he didn't have his parents anymore. And all because some madman was after him.

"You don't know what you're talking about," Harry said desperately in unison with his memory self.

Unbridled rage snuck up in the background and Harry knew it wasn't his.

Petunia scowled at Harry and he wondered how she could be looking straight at him as if he was right there. Again. "The way I see it, that murderer only came for you. If you hadn't been there-"

_I don't want to see this. Stop it! Let me out!_

**Do what you did before. Think of something else. Deny the memory.**

Harry tried. He really did but there was no way that he could ignore Petunia's constant jibes. The hurtful comments got rid of every shred of happiness he had felt in that previous memory, only made worse by the knowledge that he would never feel that kind of happiness again. Because his parents were dead!

_Dead, dead, dead!_

**Potter, I can't get you out of there right now. Focus!**

Harry fell to his knees, clenching large fistfuls of his hair to try and stop the inevitable intrusion. Petunia kept yelling. Kept insisting on Harry's faults. Vernon threw in a comment every now and then but it was his aunt who really knew how to wound him.

Whereas his mother had sung him lullabies.

_Please. Please stop this. I can't do it._

But be it because he couldn't or because he wouldn't, Snape did not break the memory. It played out until the end, when Harry ended up in his bedroom, staring into the darkness.

As soon as that ended, Harry was expelled from his mind. He became aware of his physical body again and realised that his face was stained with tears. For a moment, he was staring at his hands. He had apparently clenched his fists so hard that his nails had drawn blood. But oddly, he didn't care. He felt empty.

Broken.

"Potter." When Harry heard his name, he remembered that Snape was there with him. He lifted his gaze to see the man in front of him. There was clear dismay in his eyes. Hatred. Anger. Because what else could the man possibly feel when he looked at Harry? What else was there?

Harry clenched his jaw to stop himself from saying anything and leapt to his feet. He had run out of the office before Snape was able to lock the door. And Harry was glad for it. He wasn't able to face talking about this.

_Not now. Not ever._

He ignored the shouting of his name in the background and ran. He ran as far away as he could from the office – the place of his despair – before his legs threatened to give way. When that happened, he opened the first door he came upon and threw himself into the empty room which was apparently an abandoned classroom.

A few wand incantations had him locking and silencing the door. He didn't want any company. All he wanted was to lock out the world.

He sat there for a while, slouched against the stone wall with his knees drawn up to his chest. The warring emotions within him were almost too much to bear.

_You can't miss what you never had._

Harry had always thought that line was stupid. That it made no sense! After all, he really had missed having a family while stuck at the Dursleys. He missed having his parents around the way Dudley had his. He missed them despite not knowing them.

He chuckled bitterly when he realised how true it rang now, though. Knowing what they were like now. Remembering what it had felt like to be in his mother's embrace had instilled in him such a feeling of loss that it weighed heavier on his heart than anything he had ever felt before. It was almost as if he lost them all over again. Only now, he was only too aware of it.

Harry buried his head in his arms as he cried. He hated this. He hated what Snape had seen of him. He hated himself.

_What do I even have to live for? Everyone turns away from me in the end._

His tears stopped flowing and he wiped at his cheeks. Numbness washed over him then. The kind of silent reprieve one got when faced with the certainty of their next step. The knowledge that everything would be alright.

And it would be. Soon.

Harry loosened his tie, the Gryffindor colours flashing at him even as he transfigured it into a rope. A large chandelier hung from the ceiling and Harry casually tossed the rope across it before tightening it into a firm noose.

_I can be with them again. _

Harry grabbed one of the chairs that had been tossed aside Merlin knows how many years ago. He placed the rickety thing underneath the chandelier and climbed on top of it. There was no hesitation. Only clarity as to what he had to do. He hung the noose loosely around his neck and smiled.

He wouldn't bother his relatives anymore. He wouldn't anger Snape and he wouldn't inconvenience Dumbledore. Voldemort would get what he wanted and would maybe stop his fixation on Hogwarts. People would stop disappearing and no one - no one would be able to hurt him again.

He had hurt enough for one lifetime.

He kicked the chair away from underneath him and the rope tightened viciously around his neck as he fell. There was instant panic, even if he had seen this coming. His legs kicked in the air, scrambling for purchase that wasn't there. Reflexively, his hands flew up to the rope but it was too tight to get his fingers underneath. Instead, he scrambled at the cord without much effect, his fingernails chipping on the thick material as he scratched it. The sensation of not being able to breathe hurt and every time he tried to inhale, his throat would protest painfully.

Bright lights sparked into his vision and he was hearing popping sounds that didn't seem to have an origin. He was vaguely aware of saliva dripping from the corner of his mouth but he didn't care.

Eventually, the panic subsided when darkness started to tug at the edge of his vision. He didn't know quite how long he was dangling there, unable to reach the fallen chair but he knew that it wouldn't be long now. Soon, everything would be over. Already, he was starting to feel cold.

_Please. I just want this to be over._

Harry didn't fully understand what happened next. Suddenly he fell the short drop to the floor when the rope failed, somehow. He made hard contact with the stones below but didn't fully register that as he barely held on to consciousness. The feeling of pins and needles coursed through his every limb and when he tried to lift a hand, only his index finger would move.

Then, a cool hand loosened the burning rope and removed it in one furious movement. Harry inhaled sharply, against his wishes. Air filled his lungs with such ferocity that it hurt. He couldn't help it after that. He kept breathing. Someone was prodding him. Opening his eyes and shining a light in them. Talking to him.

Harry tried to say something but he couldn't. _No_, he thought. _Leave me be. _

Warmth engulfed him. Black cloth smelling of herbs and spices. Ginger and rosemary. Thyme.

_I don't want more time._

His head now rested against something solid and he could hear a fast drumming in his ears. A humming of a deep voice. More talking? Harry didn't understand.

He struggled to remain conscious. To try and tell the person to go away and leave him alone. He didn't need saving. It wasn't Voldemort this time. It was him. All him.

_Lay down your head –_

Something was pressed against Harry's mouth and a cold liquid filled his mouth. That same cool hand against his throat and he was made to swallow. A small voice in the back of his mind wondered what it had been. Another voice pointed out that it might have been poison. Harry thought that it didn't matter if it had been.

And then colour returned to his vision. The darkness he had sought to make permanent was cruelly torn away and he started recognising his surroundings.

Black cloth wrapped in scents of herbs and spices. Warm arms holding him in a fierce embrace. The sound of a rapid heartbeat that wasn't his own. A hand carding through his hair. And the sound of a voice that was speaking reassuringly. Telling him that everything would be alright. Promising him a tomorrow that Harry didn't want. His fists clenched in the robes engulfing him, hiding him away from the world. And he cried. Loudly and without any thought as to what anyone would think if they saw him there, clenching to Snape's robes as if they were his final lifeline. He didn't want to be there but he didn't want to ever leave the embrace either. So he just sat there, accepting the quiet murmurs spoken in his hair and the arms tightening around his shoulders. For as long as he could.


	21. Chapter 21

_A big thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. I really loved reading what you thought about the chapter since it as my favourite so far. Things will take a very different direction from here on out._

* * *

**Chapter 21**

Harry had no idea how long they sat there. But throughout his breakdown, Snape hadn't tried to move or get up even once. When clarity returned to Harry's mind, his thoughts began whirring chaotically.

_Oh no. I cried all over Snape. Snape! And he saw. He –_

Harry just wanted to sink through the floor in shame. He wished he knew what Snape was thinking at that moment but the man provided no such insights. Instead, he just stayed. Steady as a rock. Unwavering.

And then the overwhelming knowledge that Harry was huddled awkwardly against Snape overcame him. Everything was wrong with this picture. He tried to escape. To get away from the warm embrace. But Snape wouldn't let him. Instead, he tightened his hold even more until Harry was afraid he'd break.

"Harry, we need to talk about this," Snape said.

_Harry? Since when does he call me Harry?_

Harry shook his head in the black robes he was pressed against. He didn't want to talk about it. What was there to say? It was only obvious.

"We must," Snape insisted. "It is clear to me now that providing you with the time to make a choice yourself was not for the best."

"Please," Harry said, hating the way his voice cracked. "I don't want to talk."

Snape sighed. "I'll begin then, shall I?" he proposed. "I feel that I must… apologise. My earlier actions were not particularly helpful."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, his voice muffled by the thick robes.

"When I noticed that you were rapidly falling into a dark hole, I sought to raise your spirits somewhat by showing you something you'd forgotten. A memory from your past."

Harry nodded. That _had_ been a nice memory and truth be told it had made him feel better… at the time.

"If I had known about that aggravating conversation you had with your Aunt on that last day, I might have known just how dangerous that notion was," Snape continued. "The fact that she has been able to pollute the memory of your parents thusly… frankly, it infuriates me."

Harry snorted. _Why would that infuriate you? You've always hated me._

But no. That wasn't true anymore, was it? Harry's mind went back to the conversations he had with Snape. The Occlumency lessons. Without even fully realising it, he had begun to open up to his potions professor. And the surprising part was that Snape had never made fun of him in any way. He had listened to Harry and tried to help him. It wasn't his fault that Harry didn't want his help.

_And now he saved my miserable life. Again._

"I'm sorry that you felt as if you had to do this, Harry," Snape said. "I'm sorry that you feel so alone."

It was odd. Harry _had_ felt alone. His friends could never make up for the absence of the family he had always wanted. And even they were not always on his side. Much of what he went through, he had to deal with himself. Always – always alone. But sitting here on the cold stone floor, wrapped in the darkness of the unilluminated room, he felt different.

"I don't know what to do," Harry admitted, surprised at himself that he dared confess that.

"I know," Snape replied softly. "I will help you with finding that out. If you'll let me."

Harry nodded and the arms around him retreated. Snape rose to his feet and extended his hand towards Harry to help him up. Harry allowed him to but didn't look up to meet his gaze. He didn't want to see the pity in Snape's eyes. Nor did he want the man to try and read his mind. Instead, he looked at the ground, his eyes fixating on the cut rope that lay uselessly on a crack in the tiles. Snape waved his wand and the offending item vanished.

"That was my tie," Harry said dryly.

"So it was," Snape replied evenly. He put a hand on Harry's shoulder and opened the door. "Come with me." It sounded like an order but Harry could feel the hesitation. It then struck him that Snape likely didn't fully know what to do now either.

Exhausted and not feeling up to battling Snape about this, he followed obediently. Something told him that the hand on his shoulder wouldn't have let him go anyway. Even if he wanted to bolt.

They walked back to Snape's office and Harry wondered if the man wanted to have another discussion with Harry as they sat around his desk on those dreadfully hard chairs. His aching back did not make him look forward to that prospect. But once they entered, Snape did not take a seat. Instead, he walked over to his shelves filled with disgusting oddities and beautiful rarities and picked up a jar of milky fluids filled with blue flower petals. He murmured something under his breath and then a door appeared behind the desk.

Harry was not surprised. His Marauder's Map had already revealed the fact that there were chambers behind Snape's office. He just never knew how to get there.

Snape opened the door and looked at Harry, his expression indecipherable. "Well?" he said. "I would think that any Gryffindor would jump at the opportunity to see my private chambers."

_I wonder if he really does have rubber ducks._

Harry nodded numbly and walked past Snape into what appeared to be a sitting room. It was dominated largely by a black fireplace large enough to fit an adult or two without requiring them to duck. The stone glimmered and Harry was certain that if he got closer, he could see his reflection in it. The walls were as grey as the rest of the dungeons were but large tapestries were hung to cover a large portion of the boring stones. Tapestries that depicted stories of battle and adventure. What they lacked in colour, they made up for in their details.

The furniture was all made from the same kind of dark walnut and the cushions and carpet were coloured an arctic blue. Snape's ceiling, though it was obviously in the dungeons, was charmed to reflect the sky and Harry looked up in awe to see the stars peeking from behind the misty clouds.

"Wow," he said, unable to help himself.

"I'm glad it's to your liking," Snape said, trying to sound sardonic. But Harry noticed the odd quiver in his voice. It made him feel guilty. "Have a seat, if you will."

Harry nodded again and sat down on the sofa which was so soft and comfortable that he almost found himself sinking into it.

A large pot of tea appeared on the table in front of him alongside two cups, sugar and cream.

"Help yourself," Snape said. "I need to have a talk with the headmaster."

"What?" Harry stammered. "No, please don't sir. I really don't want him to know."

"I'm afraid that discretion is no longer an option, Mr Potter," Snape said.

_Ah, he reverted back to Mr Potter already._

"I am very much aware that my failure to act could likely have had catastrophic results –"

_That's a bit much._

"Which is why I find myself unable to keep your inner turmoil to myself any longer."

"But-"

"Rest assured," Snape continued, "that I will tell no one who needn't know."

Harry nodded weakly. He knew it would be stupid to argue. He could try to tell Snape that this was a one-time thing. That he wouldn't try it again. But really, could he make such promises? Nothing had changed, after all.

Snape hesitated in front of his fireplace for a moment and then waved his wand. The walls surrounding them shimmered for a moment before settling down again.

"The bathroom is through there," Snape said, pointing at a door at the end of a short corridor. "I trust that I can leave you alone for a moment."

"Yes, Professor," Harry said, ashamed at the implication.

"Very well," Snape said. He took a handful of floo powder and tossed it into the flames. "Dumbledore's office," he said. He looked at Harry one more time before stepping into the green fire and then he was gone.

Harry didn't know what to do with himself. He made himself a cup of tea with one sugar and took in his surroundings. There really weren't a whole lot of knickknacks to give the room a homey feel aside from books. But there was one item in particular that drew Harry's attention. On a low table in a corner stood an old-timey gramophone player of the wind-up kind. Behind it, the shelves were filled with records.

_Huh. I never imagined Snape would have one of these._

Harry looked over the records, feeling somewhat distanced from himself as he did. They were all classical music of artists he had never listened to. Sure, he recognised some names like Chopin, Mozart and Debussy but there were many more he had never heard from in his life like Moszkowski, Finzi and Zelenka. At least Snape's choice of music seemed to be as expected. The records didn't hold his interest for long, though, and soon his mind was filled with dark thoughts once more.

Harry started pacing the floor as he awaited Snape's return. It's not as if the man had been gone for very long but just knowing what he was talking about was nerve-wracking. And to know that Dumbledore, of all people, would know what was going on…

Harry sighed. Already, he realised that he wouldn't be able to go back to the tower after this. There's no way Dumbledore would let him. But what would be the alternative? Staying in the hospital wing with Madame Pomfrey? Maybe he would even be sent back to the Dursleys. Dumbledore seemed to love doing that.

_Snape wouldn't allow that._

Harry smiled a little. No, he wouldn't. Whatever they were discussing over there, Harry knew without a doubt that Snape was likely to stand up for him. At least that was enough to soothe his worries a little.

After drinking several cups of tea, Harry found that he did need the loo so he carefully opened the door Snape had pointed out to him earlier. A large bathroom was revealed with both a tub and a shower, separated by a partial wall from the rest of the room. A large mirror hung on the wall and beneath it, a square, pearly white sink had been installed. A plain rubber duck sat on the edge, facing the tap. Harry chuckled. So Snape hadn't been joking about that.

After relieving himself, Harry washed his hands and was shocked at his reflection in the mirror. The white of one of his eyes was blood red. There was severe bruising on his throat that anyone would be able to recognise for what it was and it was very swollen. Some dried blood coloured Harry's ear and there were scratch marks from where he had tried to claw at the rope. When Harry looked at his fingers, he saw that there was some dried blood underneath his fingernails as well. Suddenly disgusted with himself, he hastily washed his hands making sure that everything was gone. Every proof of what just happened. At least his face, he wouldn't be able to see.

Just as he was refilling his teacup once more, the floo flared to life. Harry braced himself, expecting Dumbledore to step through but only Snape did after which the fire turned back to its normal colours.

Snape looked decidedly grim and Harry frowned. "Sir?" he asked tentatively. "Is everything alright?"

Snape sighed as he sank into a soft armchair. "You ask me if everything's alright," he said softly. "Of course it isn't. Nothing about this is alright."

Harry hung his head. "I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to be an inconvenience. I'll just go back to the tower, alright?"

"for Merlin's sake, that's not what I meant," Snape said gruffly. "You are not to go back to the tower anytime soon."

"Then where will I stay?" Harry asked. "Am I expelled?"

"Expelled?" Snape echoed. "No, of course not. We wouldn't expel you for this. And to do what? Send you back to that vermin that is supposed to be your family? No, I think not." Snape took the second cup and filled it with tea. No sugar or cream this time, Harry noted.

"As to the matter of your residence, you will have a choice to make," Snape continued.

"Er… alright," Harry said slowly, unsure of what exactly he was supposed to say.

"Under normal circumstances – not that this is a regular occurrence, mind you – we would have no choice but to send you to St Mungo's for some time. The matter of your well-known identity and the danger you would find yourself in renders that possibility out of the question, though. Of course, you'll understand that we can't have you return to your normal life either. Doing so would be irresponsible and foolish of us. You understand, I'm sure, that we can't trust you to look after yourself at the moment."

Harry nodded mutely. He just wished Snape would get to the point and explain what his options were rather than telling him what they couldn't do.

"Professor Dumbledore suggested you stay with your head of house," Snape said. "I believe that would be a sensible solution but you understand that she would have to be informed as to why the arrangement is necessary in the first place."

"No," Harry said automatically. "I don't want you to tell her." The idea of McGonagall finding out just how unlike a Gryffindor he had acted pained him. He didn't want to disappoint her the way he had Snape. And now Dumbledore.

"I told the headmaster that you would say that," Snape said. "Luckily for you he had one other suggestion. I, too, am a head of house and would be amenable to taking you in for the time being until such a time that you resolve to explain to your head of house what troubles you."

Harry stared at Snape wide-eyed, the lid of his right eye twinging painfully as he did so. "You would take me in?" he asked. "Here? In your private quarters?"

"If that is your choice," Snape replied evenly. "If that is something you would rather not agree to, you do still have the option of speaking with Professor McGonagall. If you so desire, I can do it for you."

If those had been Harry's options several months ago, he would not have hesitated. He would've picked McGonagall instantly, the shame he would feel because of the situation be damned. But now?

He looked at Snape who looked back at him unflinchingly. That same stern, resolute expression in his eyes that he always wore. As if he had not just rescued Harry from hanging himself. As if he didn't notice the blood in his eyes. There was no resentment. No malice.

"Are you sure I can't just go back to the tower?" Harry tried.

Snape shook his head. "That is not an option," he replied patiently. "Not at this time."

"Yeah, I didn't think so," Harry said bitterly. "In that case, sir, if it's alright with you, I'd rather stay here."

A flash of surprise washed over Snape's face, though only for a moment. "You are certain?" he asked.

"If _you_ are," Harry said bitterly. "Though I'd understand if you'd rather not have me here."

"I'll admit that having any student in my private chambers is something that's not exactly in my comfort zone," Snape said. "But I would not have offered if I wasn't sure."

Harry nodded curtly. "Thank you, sir," he said. "I'll try to be quiet while I'm here."

Snape sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Before anything else, we need to have a little talk, you and I."

Harry groaned. "Sir, I really don't want to."

"I know you don't," Snape said. "But you won't want to tomorrow either. Or the day after that. And I won't stand for your avoidance any longer."

"It's not your fault, alright?" Harry said.

Snape blinked. "Excuse me?"

"The memory you showed me," Harry said. "I know you were trying to do something nice for me. And it was! I couldn't remember my parents at all before. And now I know what they were like. At least a little bit. It's just… it made it that much harder to know that I…"

"You were not responsible for their deaths," Snape said frankly. "Nor that of Cedric Diggory. You did not wield the Dark Lord's wand and you didn't command his underlings. You're just a child."

"But if it wasn't for me, they would all still be around!" Harry protested.

"Would they?" Snape asked. "Your parents stood up to Voldemort many times And they would have continued to do so until he was defeated. Without his downfall caused by your mother's protection, who knows how long that would have taken."

"What if's aren't exactly going to make me feel better, sir," Harry said. "No offence."

"Exactly right," Snape said. "You don't know what would have happened if you weren't there. Your entire life has been wrapped in misery and death. More so than I even realised. But none of it is your fault."

"Professor Quirrel –"

"It wasn't your fault, Harry," Snape said, a bit softer this time.

Harry's eyes pricked and he frowned to try and stop the tears from coming. "The basilisk –"

"It wasn't your fault," Snape repeated stubbornly.

"I wish I wasn't the-boy-who-lived!" Harry suddenly shouted. "I wish I was just Harry! Not someone who defeated Voldemort when he was a baby, only to lose his parents in the process. Not an orphan in a cupboard. Not anyone but… myself."

"Yes," Snape said. "I can see that."

Harry scoffed. "Really?" he asked.

"Fame does not sit well with you," Snape admitted. "I've always resented the way the wizarding world leans on you just because of something you don't even have any recollection of. I just never knew how much you resented that as well."

Harry shook his head numbly. "People don't see me," he said. "It's as if this scar is a barrier that I'm hidden behind."

"I'm willing to get to know you," Snape said, leaning over and tentatively putting a hand on Harry's chest. "You. Harry Potter. If you'll allow me to."

Harry didn't understand why, but that brought a smile to his face. A real one. Snape withdrew his hand and leaned on his knees, looking at Harry with curiosity.

"That wouldn't be so bad, I guess," Harry said. "But what about your… ah, second job?"

"I'm afraid I will need to keep my distance from you in public," Snape admitted. "Nothing much will change as far as other people are concerned. But I'm sure you understand why."

Harry nodded. "He would kill you if he knew," he said, feeling guilty already.

"He would kill me for many things if he knew the truth," Snape replied. "My being a spy is the biggest threat to my life, make no mistake. This new arrangement is only a small addition to the long list of acts against the Dark Lord I have committed."

"I guess that's true," Harry admitted.

"But in the privacy of my quarters, I will do my best to treat you well," Snape said. "That said, I am bound to make mistakes. Children don't seem to appreciate my attempts to better them."

Harry chuckled. "That's only because you're so menacing," he said. "If they knew about your rubber ducks –"

"I would have no choice but to resign immediately," Snape said. "Merlin forbid."

Harry watched as Snape drained his cup and placed it gently back onto the saucer. "So er… I guess that means I'm still allowed to go to class?"

Snape nodded in confirmation.

"But what will I tell everyone?" Harry asked.

"That you have taken ill and that you need to be watched at night," Snape said easily. "That shouldn't be hard to believe. As I understand it, all of your dormmates have witnessed you having one of your… visions."

Harry looked at his hands and nodded. He felt exhausted and wanted nothing more than to go to sleep.

Snape seemed to take notice. "I am certain that there are many things we have yet to discuss," he said. "But for now I believe we've said enough. I'm pleased that you spoke to me."

Harry nodded mutely.

"The headmaster has prepared a room for you, already," Snape said, inclining his head towards a door Harry had not seen before.

"What?" Harry asked. "How does he know what I decided?"

"He was rather certain that you would choose to remain here," Snape said evenly. "And so he took the liberty to make an addition to my quarters."

Harry stared at the door. That was going to be his room? His room in Snape's quarters? The situation was so odd that Harry couldn't help but wonder if he was dreaming.

Snape cleared his throat, drawing Harry out of his reveries. "I'm going to have to ask for your wand before you retire," he said.

"My wand?" Harry echoed, instinctively grabbing it a bit tighter in his pocket. "Why?"

"I merely wish to keep you from harming yourself again," Snape said sternly. "Your wand is your most dangerous tool. So I ask again. Hand it over."

Snape extended his hand and from the tone of his voice, Harry realised that the man would not ask a third time. Not eager to find out what would happen in such a case, he begrudgingly handed over his wand.

"You will get this back in the morning," Snape said. "And you will give it to me every evening until such a time I think it is no longer necessary."

Harry sighed dramatically. "Yes, sir," he said.

Snape seemed to hesitate for one more moment before nodding at Harry. "Go on," he said. "I think we can both use our rest. I will explain the situation to your head of house and she can inform your friends."

Harry nodded. Without needing further prompting, he opened the newly appeared door to step into a modest room. Gryffindor banners were hung against the bare stone and against the furthest wall, a four-poster bed was erected. The bedsheets were crimson. Harry's trunk had already appeared at the foot of the bed along with all of his toiletries.

He put on a pair of pyjamas, careful not to jar the injuries on his back and grabbed his toothbrush. Back in the bathroom, Harry noted that Snape had already made ready the necessities such as toothpaste. Trying his hardest not to look in the mirror, Harry brushed his teeth and went to bed.

On his nightstand, he found an array of potions, a salve and a note.

_Drink these before you go to bed. The salve is to be applied to your neck._

Harry stared at the potions for a long time. One the one hand, it was horrible that Snape had walked in on him while he was doing… that. He had never wanted for the man to see the memory he had seen. It was bad enough that he knew about the abuse and now this! The room dressed in Gryffindor colours and the potions felt a lot like coddling.

On the other hand, Harry had to admit that it was somewhat nice to be cared for. Even if it made him feel somewhat apprehensive. The potions had been given to him in private rather than pushed into his hands accompanied by stern instructions on how to use them. No, Snape had at least allowed him this much pride. However little it was, Harry appreciated it. And he supposed Snape wasn't the worst kind of person to know his secrets. The man had already proven to be able to keep them, despite his past animosity towards Harry. Not only that, but he was actually making an effort to be there for Harry. Even if he really didn't have to. The fact that he had given Harry a choice rather than forcibly dumping him on McGonagall already meant more than Harry could say.

He took the potions and applied the salve. The headache that had built but which he didn't complain about faded almost immediately. The pressure behind his eyes diminished as well. Harry sighed. He could only hope that Snape's goodwill wouldn't run out. The best way to make sure that didn't happen was to listen to the man as best he could and try to stay out of his way. He didn't need to put an even greater burden on him than he already had. So things like Umbridge and his black-outs he would just need to deal with himself.

But if he was entirely honest with himself, Harry was glad that he had been able to unload at least a bit of the burden onto someone. And the fact that that someone had been there for him afterwards meant the world to him.

* * *

In the shower, the next morning, Harry had found another rubber duck. It was a tiny thing, hardly larger than a galleon but it was there. It was a small thing but it amused Harry greatly. This enigmatic man so full of secrets actually concealed more than just a dark, haunted role in this war.

He checked himself over in the mirror while he dried off. His eyes were back to normal and while his neck still seemed a bit swollen, the large mark that the rope had left had vanished completely. There was no ringing in his ears and no spots in his vision. It was almost as if last night hadn't happened.

Almost.

When he walked into the sitting room, Snape was already sitting there, thumbing through a thick book. Music was playing very softly in the background and Harry walked over to the gramophone, curious as to what exactly this piano piece was.

The cover of the record read 'Arabesque No 1.' By Debussy. Harry frowned. That told him absolutely nothing.

"If you are quite done admiring my record collection, I assume you will want your wand back?" Snape asked. Harry turned around, slightly abashed but noticed the amused glint in Snape's eyes.

"Yeah," he said, taking his wand from the man's extended hand in relief.

"You look a lot better this morning," Snape remarked. "Do you think you're up for classes?"

"Yes," Harry said eagerly.

"Very well," Snape said. "I would advise that you floo over to the Gryffindor tower so that you can walk to the great hall with your housemates. I think it's best that you keep your relocation a secret at least from the other houses."

"If you think that's what's best," Harry said, suspecting that it was mostly Slytherin house Snape wanted to keep in the dark.

"I do," Snape said. "Make sure to convey that message to your housemates as well."

"Okay," Harry said slowly. He stood there for a moment feeling decidedly uncomfortable before he spoke again. "I wanted to thank you, sir," he then said. "You know, for last night. You… didn't have to."

"Your thanks are appreciated but unnecessary," Snape replied. "Now go on. Before your friends leave without you."

Harry nodded and tossed in the floo powder with the Gryffindor common room on his lips and music ringing in his ears as he vanished.

When Harry appeared in the common room, Fred and George leapt out of the seats they had claimed in front of the fireplace.

"Harry!" they shouted in unison.

"I can't believe you used the floo," Fred said in awe.

"That is just plain wicked. They normally won't open the grate for students," George added.

"Did you get permission or did you get around the wards somehow?" Fred asked.

"I got permission," Harry replied.

"Sweet," Fred and George said.

"Do you think you could take us with you if you tried?" Fred asked.

"We could get to Hogsmeade just like that!" George said.

"Even better. We could head down to the Leaky Cauldron," Fred argued wistfully.

"I really think I'm only able to travel from Snape's quarters to here, though," Harry said as he brushed off his robes.

"Snape's quarters, Harry?" Fred inquired.

"Do tell us more," George urged, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Harry groaned but figured that he might as well explain the situation to the two redheads. They could easily spread word quickly. Something Harry wasn't eager to do so himself.

"Listen," he said. "You know how I get these… dreams from Voldemort, right?"

To their credit, the twins didn't even flinch.

"' Course, Harry," Fred said.

"Well", Harry continued. "They were becoming dangerous so Dumbledore thought it best if I stayed with Snape for a while. You know, because he's a potions master and knows a thing or two about the dark arts and stuff."

"That's rough, mate," George said, clapping him on the shoulder. "Should we arrange your funeral now or wait until the big day?"

Harry chuckled. "It's really not that bad," he said. "He's been alright. But the things is, Slytherin would probably not appreciate me staying in the dungeons. We figured it will be bad if they find out."

"Ah, we get it!" Fred said. "You're invoking house secrecy!"

Harry frowned. "Is that a thing?" he asked.

"It is now!" the twins said. "Don't worry. We'll let everyone know not to let everyone know."

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. "That would be great," he said.

"Anything for our number one fan," George said with a wink.

"We'll get started right away, my liege," Fred added regally.

And off they were. Harry sunk into one of the chairs while he waited for his friends to come down. It was still early, after all, and there was no way that Ron was already up. Staring into the flames he wondered just how he was going to get through the rest of the year when small voice reminded him that he had help.

* * *

_And so Harry enters Snape's quarters. As a Gryffindor, one can only wonder how long he'll be able to keep his secrets from the head of Slytherin house. Care to wager any bets? Please let me know what you thought. _

_Next chapter, Harry's element will be revealed. It will likely not be what you expect. _

_On a final note, to all of those Snape lovers out there, I would like to recommend you see a fan-made film. It's called 'Severus Snape and the Marauders.' It's better than I had expected! Do check it out if you're bored._

_See you on Friday!_


	22. Chapter 22

_Is it Friday already? My, how time does fly. Thank you all for your continued interest and reviews._

* * *

**Chapter 22**

It wasn't actually until during their free period in the afternoon that Harry was able to talk to Ron and Hermione about what was going on. They had heard the news from Fred and George – much like everyone else in Gryffindor – but were still visibly confused about the whole thing. Not that Harry could blame them, of course, but he felt that he needed to really think about what he was going to tell them before he could actually explain the situation… or what he wanted them to know, at least.

"So, I've been thinking about our defence problem," Hermione said as they sat outside in the grass, throwing rocks into the great lake. "And I'm pretty sure I've found a good solution."

"Plant a dragon in Umbridge's office and accuse her of illegal smuggling activities?" Ron suggested.

Hermione sighed exasperatedly. "No, Ronald," she said. "I actually thought that it would be a good idea if one of the students taught a defence class in secret. One that Umbridge knows nothing about."

Harry was sort of grateful for the distraction Hermione offered. He lay on his belly on the grass with his head resting on his arms. "Yeah," he said absentmindedly. "Sounds like a plan."

"Did you have anyone in mind?" Ron asked. Harry thought he sounded a bit odd when he asked that. Almost as if he was acting a part.

"I do, actually," Hermione replied without missing a beat. "It would have to be someone who's good at the subject, obviously."

"That makes sense," Ron agreed easily.

"And it would need to be someone people listen to." Hermione continued logically.

_I don't like where this is going._

"Ah, like someone everyone looks up to, you mean?" Ron asked in that same fake tone of voice.

"Precisely!" Hermione said. She was glancing at Harry quite often but Harry pretended not to see as he stared at a few ants marching by.

"Sounds like you'll want Fred and George," he said quickly. "People love them and their spell work is actually very good."

"Not as good as yours, though," Hermione pointed out smoothly. "No one's as good as you. And no one _but_ you knows what it's like to… you know."

"I know," Harry mumbled. He righted himself and dusted off his sleeves. "You could just ask me straight up, you know? There's no need to put on an act like this."

"I had no choice in the matter, mate," Ron said, raising his hands defensively. "You know Hermione. Everything needs to be perfect."

"Ron!" Hermione chided. "Don't pretend like you didn't think this was a good idea either." She then faced Harry and took his hands into hers. "Listen, Harry," she said. "I know you've been through a lot lately –"

_You don't know the half of it._

"And I can see that your thoughts are elsewhere a lot. But I really think this could help not only everyone else, but you as well!"

Harry frowned. "How so?"

"By being able to practice with other people, of course!" Hermione said excitedly. "Sure, especially at first no one will be able to battle you as an equal but they can get better. You can train them to be better. Make sure that they - no that we - can protect ourselves. And in return, we will duel you. Two or three against one if need be."

Harry looked down at his hands that were still tightly clasped into Hermione's. He swallowed thickly. "You know what's been going on lately," he said. "You know I might have something to do with those disappearances. If I do, how can you possibly trust me to teach you anything?"

"Harry," Ron said sternly. "You have nothing to do with all of this. Nothing at all, you hear me?"

Harry snorted. "You can't possibly know that."

"Oh yes, I can," Ron argued vehemently. "I know I'm not as talented as you or even half as bright as Hermione but I _know_ you. And I know for a fact that there is no way in hell that you have anything to do with what's going on. Even if Crabbe and Goyle probably deserve what's happened to them but –"

"Ron!" Hermione chided.

"Sorry," Ron said with a sheepish grin. "But you know what I mean. This is like second year all over again! You think that you have something to do with this but it's really just people playing tricks on you, I'd wager. I'll tie you to your bed if I have to prove it to you."

Harry chuckled. "I appreciate that, Ron," he said. "I really do. But you won't be able to do that anymore."

"Oh yeah, that's right," Ron said, seeming somewhat deflated. "You have to live with that greasy git for now."

"He's not that bad, really," Harry said. "He hasn't yelled at me or made me sleep on the floor or anything. I even got a room of my own."

"Let me guess, everything's done in black," Ron sneered.

"Gryffindor colours, actually," Harry said, leaving out that he thought that had been Dumbledore's doing.

"I don't see why you couldn't stay in the tower," Hermione said. "If need be, you could have stayed with Professor McGonagall. I'm sure Professor Snape would only be a short floo call away."

Harry shrugged. "I guess they think that any second wasted could be dangerous," he said. "It's for my own good, really. I don't need you to fight this for me."

"I didn't even know you had another vision," Ron said. "Did it happen right after your black-out?"

"Maybe the two are connected," Hermione then said. "Maybe you should document when each happens and compare the two. It might give you a clue. Of course, you could always go to a Professor instead –"

Harry snorted. "Sure," he said. "Let's go spread the news of how loony I really am. They might even admit me to St Mungo's straight away!"

"I doubt they'd do that, Harry," Hermione said softly.

_After yesterday, I think they just might._

"Hermione's just trying to help," Ron said. "There's no need to get all defensive."

Harry ran a nervous hand through his hair. "I'm sorry," he said. "It's just that – you know the teachers hardly ever listen when something goes wrong. They never believe me until it's too late. I can just hear McGonagall now." Harry put on a shrill voice. "Perhaps you should refrain from drinking too much tea in your divination class. It seems to make you jumpy. And if that doesn't work, you could always try some yoga."

"What's yoga?" Ron asked curiously.

Harry shrugged. "A muggle thing. You basically bend your body in weird ways and try not to knot your limbs in ways you can't undo."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Ignore him, Ronald," she said. "But I guess I can understand where you're coming from. Just… be careful all right? Since you'll be sleeping in Snape's quarters –"

Ron shuddered excessively.

"- you'll be able to go to him if anything's wrong. You _will_ do that, won't you Harry?"

"I might consider it," Harry said. "If it's necessary."

"Wow," Hermione said sardonically. "That makes me feel loads better. Oh, and don't think I didn't notice your little change of subject either. Will you at least think about the defence issue?"

"You mean you two trying to get me to play professor?" Harry teased.

"We're not the only one who would like that, you know," Hermione said. "Almost everyone I asked agrees with me."

Harry pulled a clump of grass out of the ground and released it in the wind. He really didn't want to have this conversation. What he really wanted was to say no. He didn't want to do any extra stuff. Actually, he didn't even want to play quidditch anymore. Not that Ron or anyone on the team would let him quit without a good reason. And he didn't have one. He just didn't feel like it. To take on yet another thing that would take hours of his week, was not something he was willing to do.

But if he thought about it – really thought about it – he couldn't help but wonder. If Cedric had been more prepared. If he had anticipated what had happened. If these lessons could buy his peers another few precious seconds that could be the difference between survival and death… well… then it would all be worth it.

"Who would make up the lesson plan?" Harry asked numbly.

"I suppose that's up to you," Hermione replied. "The three of us could go over it together so you wouldn't be stuck with all the work but if you're the one teaching the class, then it's only logical that you have the final say."

"And you're sure people will be okay with me teaching them?" Harry asked doubtfully. "You realise that a lot of them believe the Prophet over me. They think I'm lying."

"Yes, there are those people as well," Hermione admitted grumpily. "But that's on them. Meanwhile, there are plenty of others that are with you one hundred per cent. People that believe in you. You would be surprised to hear how many."

"Yeah," Ron said proudly. "A few days ago, Neville actually shoved Seamus into the wall when he was badmouthing you. Said that he had no idea what he was talking about and that he should just go home already if he was that afraid of you."

"Neville said all that?" Harry asked. "Why?"

"Why?!" Ron echoed. "Because he trusts you, of course. Like so many others do. I'm telling you, he may be a bit wonky about his plants and all, but that bloke is a good friend."

Harry actually smiled. "Yeah, I guess he is. How did Seamus react?"

"Oh, he punched him square in the nose," Ron said happily. "The crunch was so loud, I think even Ravenclaw heard it break. Ha, there was blood everywhere! Seamus got a week's worth of detention for it, too."

"And Neville?" Harry asked.

"Well, no one knows for sure, since McGonagall didn't actually say anything," Ron said secretively, "but somewhere between that incident and breakfast, the counters added fifty points to Gryffindor that no one can explain."

"See?" Hermione said. "People like Neville would love to learn from you. He told me so himself. And it's those people that matter the most, right?"

Harry shook his head. "Just because some people believe the Prophet doesn't mean they deserve to be defenceless in this war," he said. "I wish it wasn't like this."

Ron put a hand on his shoulder. "I know," he said. "But there's only so much we can do. Let's just start at the beginning, alright? And who knows! People might change their minds along the way and join us after all. Right, Hemione?"

"Sure," she said. "Everyone is welcome. Well, except the Slytherins, of course."

Harry frowned. "Why _not_ the Slytherins?" he asked.

Hermione and Ron shared a glance.

"Er…" Ron said. "Do you really need an explanation? They're Slytherins. Isn't that reason enough?"

"Whatever is going on, Slytherin is obviously as much a target as anyone else," Harry said. "Why shouldn't they get help?"

"For all we know, Crabbe and Goyle disappeared because they were scared of what was going to happen to them," Ron said. "Or, you know, they are the ones that have something to do with this whole mess in the first place."

"It _is_ sort of convenient that they vanished when they did," Hermione added thoughtfully. "Besides, the Slytherins will never be able to keep their mouths shut."

"Maybe they wouldn't feel the need to blab if they were included for once," Harry pointed out meekly.

"Harry," Ron said. "You're defending Slytherin! No offence but are you sure Snape didn't make you drink something wonky?"

Harry sighed. He didn't want to argue. "Forget it," he said. "It's fine, really. Do whatever you want. I'm not sure I'll be the right one to teach, though. Find someone else if you can, okay?"

"What?" Hermione asked. "Just because of Slytherin?"

"It just doesn't sit right with me, okay?" Harry snarled. "Not after –"

_Snape saved me for the umpteenth time. And Malfoy helped me as well._

"After, what?" Hermione prompted.

"I just feel like the Slytherins might be just as afraid about what's to come as we are," Harry said.

"They don't seem like it," Ron mumbled.

Harry shrugged. "We're going to be late for Herbology if we stay here any longer," he said. "Let's just go, alright?"

Harry didn't even wait for a response. He started walking, astutely aware of his two friends following a few steps behind him, whispering animatedly amongst themselves. They were probably wondering if Harry had gone mad. And quite frankly, Harry though that might still be an option.

* * *

When Harry stood in front of the fireplace after dinner with his book bag in hand, he was stopped by Hermione who was already getting ready to start studying.

"You're already going down?" she asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"Yeah," Harry said uneasily. "I have to. You know, so Snape can be there as soon as something happens. The visions don't always come at night, you know?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes at Harry but merely sighed. "That's tough," she said. "But it'll be alright. Just try and learn Occlumency as fast as you can and you can come back here, right?"

"Right," Harry said decidedly. "I'll do my best. I'll see you at breakfast."

"See you then," Hermione said. Harry threw in the small amount of floo powder Snape had provided and said, "Snape's quarters."

He stumbled ridiculously when he exited the floo and hit his shin against the coffee table.

"For a wizard, you seem decidedly uncomfortable when using the floo," Snape commented. The man was sitting on the couch, a stack of paper beside him and an essay in his hand. He hadn't even looked up when Harry came in.

"Yeah," Harry said uneasily. "I suppose it's not a skill that comes naturally."

"Indeed," Snape said. He put the essay down and looked at Harry who was dusting off his robes. He extended his hand towards him, palm up and waited. Harry clenched his jaw but knew that there was no room for argument. He removed his wand from his pocket and placed it into Snape's hand.

"Thank you," Snape said. "Now, I suppose you have a lot of homework left to do so why don't you get started on that?"

Harry stared at the man. It seemed absurd to him to see the dungeon bat sit so casually in his sitting room, grading essays over a cup of tea. Not only was it absurd because Harry had never expected there to be anything casual about Snape at all but there was something else. Something that Harry couldn't help but find bothersome.

He dropped his bag and walked over to the couch. He rested his hands on top of it as he stood behind it rather than take a seat. Snape ignored him for a long moment but eventually didn't seem to be able to anymore.

"Can I help you?" he asked dryly.

"How can you be so cavalier about this?" Harry asked.

Snape turned his head ever so slightly, a slight smirk on his face. "Why, Mr Potter," he said. "I never expected to hear that kind of word usage from you. Though I'm afraid that I didn't quite catch your meaning."

Harry sighed in exasperation. "Could you at least call me Harry in here?" he asked. "I just... please."

"Have a seat, Harry," Snape replied. "I'd rather not strain my neck as I speak with you."

Harry did as he was told and sat down at the very edge, his eyes resting warily on his hands. "Crabbe and Goyle," he explained. "I know you weren't exactly happy with them –" Snape scoffed but Harry ignored him. "But I can't understand why you're not looking for them. Aren't you worried about what's going on?"

"It is nothing you should be concerned about," Snape said. "I don't wish to make any additions to the list that represents your worries."

"Don't patronise me," Harry snapped darkly.

"I will not be spoken to in quite that manner, Mr Potter," Snape replied icily. "If you can't respect me enough to watch your tone of voice, I suggest you retire early."

"I'm sorry, alright?" Harry replied. "I'm just… worried, that's all."

Snape conjured a second cup of tea and handed it to Harry. "You appear to be worried about many things," he said. "More so than any other student in this school."

Harry scoffed. "Shouldn't I be?" he asked.

"Perhaps," Snape replied. "But as I have tried to impress upon you before, it would help if you would share some of your concerns."

"I do, though," Harry said as he cradled his warm cup in his hands. "I talk to Ron and Hermione about most things. Just not about… you know."

"Any reason as to why that is?" Snape asked carefully.

"It's ah… nothing, really," Harry said. "There are just some things you don't tell your friends."

"Indeed," Snape said, watching Harry carefully.

There was a long moment of silence in which Harry watched the tea in his cup move in response to his smallest movements.

"They don't think the Slytherins are scared of what's to come," Harry then said out of the blue. "About what's happening."

"That does not come as a surprise," Snape replied. "But what do _you_ think?"

"I think it varies," Harry said easily. "I'm not an idiot. I know that most death eaters were in Slytherin. But I can't help but feel that most Slytherins just turn out to be normal people, you know? People that don't like to express their fears. Or – you know – any emotion but supremacy."

Snape nodded. "Slytherins are not inhuman, Harry," he said. "But they are better at hiding their emotions."

"Most of the time," Harry said softly.

Snape narrowed his eyes at him. "Meaning?"

Harry drew up his knees a little, making himself a bit more comfortable on the couch. "I just think you're not as heartless as you try to make everyone believe," he said. "I mean, here you are, giving me the choice to stay with you because of… you know."

Snape inclined his head in response.

"Yeah," Harry continued. "And then there was that whole thing with Crabbe and Goyle. I'm still kind of surprised you didn't just give them a lecture and sent them on their merry way."

Harry noticed that Snape clenched his jaw. He looked about ready to throw his cup at the wall.

"Er… sir?" Harry asked.

_Great. Did I already set him off? If he blows up, I'm not cleaning Snape chunks off the wall._

"What they did," Snape hissed through gritted teeth, "was not only abhorrent behaviour. It was also dangerous. Even after the fact, they were not at all remorseful about what they did which led me to believe they would easily try to do such a thing again."

"Still," Harry said. "It's not as if they attacked a Slytherin."

"Harry," Snape said sharply. "You might not see it because, admittedly, your life has been in danger every year but this is, in fact, quite a severe situation."

"They didn't mean to, though," Harry offered.

"A horridly inadequate excuse even the first time I heard it," Snape snarled.

Harry blinked in confusion. "Sir?"

Snape sighed. "You will not let this go, will you? Gryffindors, honestly. Like dogs with a bone."

_Ah, no wizarding version of that one, huh?_

"I wish to tell you something," Snape said. "But if you repeat this story to anyone, I will cut out your tongue and pickle it in vinegar before sewing it back into your mouth. Is that clear?"

Harry, as intrigued as he was, didn't even mind the half-hearted threat. He nodded and set down his now empty cup on the table. To give his hands something to do, he started playing with some lint on his robe.

"When I was a student here," Snape began, "I had, as you have probably guessed by now, a difficult relationship with your father and his friends."

_Oh no, it's going to be this kind of story?_

"When I was your age, your godfather tricked me into going after Lupin when he retired to the shrieking shack to deal with his… monthly affliction. He thought it was all – in his words – in good fun, you see?"

"He did what?" Harry breathed. "That's horrible!"

"I thought so," Snape said. "Perhaps it was rather dim-witted of me to do what Black goaded me into doing but I was at war with them, you see? And I, truthfully, was looking for a reason to get the Marauders in trouble. I thought that whatever Lupin was up to would be their ticket out of Hogwarts. Suffice to say I probably wouldn't be sitting here in one piece if it wasn't for Potter. He found out about Black's diabolical plot and jumped in to stop me at the last moment."

"My father did?" Harry asked. "But you hate him!"

"I do," Snape acknowledged. "Aside from what he did that day, he was my main tormenter throughout my student years. Besides, he merely wanted to save his friend from his own stupidity. Not to mention Lupin. He would have gone to Azkaban had he injured anyone."

Harry was wading through so much information that he didn't know what to pick out and comment on first. He decided to latch onto the first thing that came to mind.

"You're making it sound as if they picked on you," Harry said. "But… why would they do that?"

"They were no angels," Snape said harshly. "No matter what you wish to think of those who belong in Gryffindor, I assure you that not everyone there is as noble as you attempt to be. Must I remind you of Pettigrew?"

Harry shook his head.

"I thought not," Snape said. "While three of the four of them ended up fighting for the light, they were not what you would call friendly to Slytherins in their day. Not a sentiment that has changed much."

"It's not us that throw things into other people's cauldrons," Harry muttered.

"Perhaps," Snape said. "But there are Gryffindors besides the three of you that aren't against casting tripping hexes at first years who don't yet know any better."

"What?" Harry exclaimed. "Who? No scratch that. I'm still confused. What happened to Sirius after… _that_ happened?"

Snape stared at Harry. "Nothing," he said.

"Nothing?" Harry echoed incredulously.

"Nothing," Snape repeated. "He got a slap on the wrist from the headmaster and was told not to do anything like that again as it might endanger the wolf."

"But that's so unfair!" Harry exclaimed.

"As you'll find many things in life are," Snape replied evenly. "I must say it surprises me to see you somewhat outraged on my behalf while you don't quite feel the same way about yourself. The situation may not have been exactly the same but the parallels are most certainly uncanny."

"Oh," Harry said. "_That's_ why you were so upset."

"I'll admit that I was mildly peeved," Snape begrudgingly stated.

"I guess that's probably why," Harry said.

Snape quirked an eyebrow. "Your meaning?"

Harry shrugged. "I mean, why would I be upset if someone was already standing up for me? You were already dealing with things before I even woke up."

"I suppose," Snape said.

"That reminds me," Harry said. "You got rid of the exspetor. Could you tell me how?"

"Perhaps another time," Snape said dismissively. "We've spoken for quite long enough. I need to get back to my grading and you should probably get started on your homework."

"You sound like Hermione," Harry said carefully.

"A noble effort but it will take more than that to change my mind," Snape said, already picking up the essay he had dropped before. "Go. And don't forget. Not a word. Not even to your little friends."

* * *

When Harry next had his Occlumency lesson, it was in Snape's private quarters rather than in his office. It felt a bit uncomfortable being in the man's personal space like that but it also felt sort of nice to be allowed somewhere no one else was. And it was definitely not because he was the boy-who-lived. No, that's one argument that would never fly with Snape.

"I assume you'll be trying water next?" Snape asked.

"Actually," Harry said. "I was thinking of something else."

"Oh?" Snape asked. "Do enlighten me."

"Er… would it be alright if I just tried it out?" Harry asked.

_I wouldn't want you to dismiss my idea before even trying it._

Snape looked at him strangely. "You are welcome to try, of course," he said. "Though I hope you realise you won't make progress unless you stick with elements."

"I am!" Harry said.

_In some way or form, anyways._

Snape made a regal gesture with his hand. "Very well then," he said. "Form the image in your mind and signal me when you're ready.

Harry nodded and closed his eyes. He was distinctly aware of the feel of the carpet beneath him and the soft glow of the fireplace nearby. But no, he had to focus. He formed the landscape in his mind. He constructed a wall in minute detail, hoping Snape would not be able to poke a hole in his defences. He crafted many different barriers. And then he was all set and ready for Snape

He inclined his head slightly and felt Snape's presence press onto his walls almost immediately. For now, they did not waver.

**What an interesting choice you have made.**

Harry smiled. He sat in the middle of a snowy mountain, surrounded on all ends by a tall glacier that was almost as clear as a mirror but jumbled up the reflections of those who looked at them. They were too slippery to climb and too dense to break. Snow was falling down heavily as Harry sat calmly in the eye of the storm. He couldn't see very far but that was alright. Snape wouldn't be able to either.

He could feel some pressure build up against the glacier to his right and quickly added a layer of ice to it. It did not break nor did it falter. Then, Harry knew – just knew – that Snape was using fire. But that didn't matter either. In this storm, even the largest of flames were extinguished as soon as they were brought to life. Nothing could survive here. Not for long.

As a last-ditch effort, Harry noticed that Snape was trying to dig underneath. He smiled. There was no way that was going to work. The ground as well was frozen solid and would not allow for Snape's trespassing. The other elements could not survive here lest they be taken over by the ice.

**Very impressive indeed. **

And then Snape drew back. Harry gasped in surprise at the premature ending of the exercise.

"What?" he asked as he clumsily righted himself. "It's over already?"

"You have created an impressive barrier," Snape replied. "Ice might not be traditional but it works for you. Very well, I might add. There is no real point in continuing to attack you so blatantly."

"So I'm ready?" Harry asked.

Snape shook his head. "No," he said. "You've mastered but the first step. You're able to erect an adequate barrier on command but there are so many other things you need to learn as well. You need to be able to protect your mind even when I attempt to breach it unexpectedly."

"What?" Harry said in horror. "You're going to attack me at random? While I'm having dinner and stuff?"

"Exactly so," Snape said easily. "Surely you don't expect the Dark Lord to give you prior warning? You need to be able to block out anyone at any time. Even in, say, the shower."

"You're going to attack me in the shower?" Harry gasped, now completely horrified.

Snape smirked. "Not immediately," he said. "Do not worry. I have no interest in watching your adolescent body flail while bathing. But once our connection has been established more thoroughly, I will be able to legilimise you from a distance."

Harry gulped. "Hold on," he said. "Because it just sounded as if you said I'll be more and more vulnerable to you the more we continue practising."

"That is exactly what I said," Snape replied easily. "It's only natural to become more attuned to one another while undertaking exercises such as these. I'm afraid there's no way around that."

Harry chuckled wryly. "I'd best hope you really are one of the good guys then, right?" he said.

Snape looked at him strangely. "The Dark Lord is already able to invade your mind from a large distance," he said icily. "He surely wouldn't need a second person with that ability. If he even knows of your connection, that is."

"Sorry," Harry mumbled, picking up on Snape's changed attitude. "I didn't mean to insult you or anything. I _do_ trust you."

"Then you will trust me on this as well," Snape said. "I will attack you in class, in the great hall and even in here. Your task is to sense my presence before I can detect anything and erect that barrier of yours at a moment's notice. In the meantime, there are other things we must practice as well."

"Such as?" Harry asked.

"Even when your Occlumency is perfect, the Dark Lord might still find a way around it. Do not forget that he is a powerful wizard," Snape said. "You must learn to effectively expel someone from your mind."

"I already know how!" Harry argued.

"You know how but you've only done it once," Snape replied. "Once is not enough. As it stands, you still need to be able to detect my presence in an unfamiliar environment rather than pick out the item that stands out as wrong."

Harry groaned. "Anything else?" he asked.

"Legilimency," Snape asked. "As soon as you've mastered Occlumency, that's what we'll be practising next."

Harry frowned. "But why?" he asked.

"The connection between you and the Dark Lord most likely works both ways," Snape replied. "If you master Legilimency as well, you might find yourself using it against him one day. It could mean the difference between victory and defeat. The more weapons you have at your disposal, the better, wouldn't you say?"

Harry sighed. "What you're saying is that I won't be through with this 'Arts of the mind' stuff anytime soon, will I?"

Snape snorted. "Not everything can come as easy as the Patronus-charm," he said sardonically. "But if you practice Occluding as often as you can and listen to my instructions, I'm sure that you will be able to reach a level I find acceptable."

_How… encouraging._

"I'll practice, Professor," Harry said. "I promise."

"Ah," Snape replied. "I'll hold you to that."

* * *

_Well? What did you think? As always, reviews are most welcome._

_On another note, I know that times are tough and that some people are finding it difficult to live in isolation for so long. I'm a stranger to most of you but should you ever need to talk, feel free to PM me._


	23. Chapter 23

_Hi everyone and welcome back! Thanks for all the reviews. One small thing that no one has called me out on yet: I made a minor mistake. I'm rereading the books right now and yesterday I realised that Harry already found out about the Marauder prank in PoA. Woops! Let's just say that in this fic, that didn't happen back then, alright? It doesn't really matter, anyways._

_In any case, please enjoy the next chapter!_

* * *

**Chapter 23**

As the days went by and Harry fell into his new routine, it became easier to relax in Snape's quarters. None of the students outside of Gryffindor house knew what was going on, nor did any of the teachers aside from Dumbledore and McGonagall. Harry's head of house seemed to be somewhat peeved about the new arrangements and Harry had seen her pick up an argument with Snape more than once over dinner. But, luckily, Snape had kept Harry's secrets to himself and had managed to dismiss McGonagall every time.

Umbridge hadn't assigned him a new detention yet but Harry knew that she was looking for a new excuse. He gladly kept his head down and did as she said in her classroom. As long as she didn't blatantly provoke him, there was no reason to act up. Eventually she would find a reason but for now, Harry was safe.

Harry narrowly dodged a bludger that shook him from his reveries.

"You have to be more careful there, Harry," Fred told him as he zoomed past.

"We don't want you incapacitated before even the first match," George added as he expertly hit the bludger that came his way.

Angelina came flying next to him. "Alright there, Harry?" she asked.

"Sorry," Harry said. "I was just distracted."

"By the snitch, I hope," Angelina said sternly. "That should be the only thing on your mind right about now."

Harry smiled placatingly. "Of course, Captain," he said. "I'll be sure to watch out."

Angelina nodded curtly and went back to her post as did Fred and George. Harry sighed as he allowed his eyes to roam the skies, absentmindedly searching for the snitch. Again. The truth was that he really didn't want to be here right now. Why his love for quidditch seemed to have diminished so drastically, he didn't know. He just honestly didn't really feel like flying anymore. It took so much effort. He'd rather just stay in his room all day and laze about, reading his schoolbooks in peace and quiet.

But Ron was already on his back as it was and if he decided to quit quidditch now, he was sure that the redhead would not let that slide. He would ask questions that Harry was not in the mood to answer. And so he soldiered on. They had been practicing for hours, already, and Harry was more than eager to get to the ground. He'd already caught the snitch five times but decided to go and find it a sixth time. Maybe that would be the signal for Angelina to call it quits.

Unfortunately for Harry, it was three more snitch catches and an hour later that Angelina finally decided to stop their practice session. By then, even Fred and George seemed less cheerful than otherwise. Only Angelina appeared pumped.

"At this rate, we will wipe the floor with Ravenclaw come next match!" she exclaimed ecstatically. "And don't forget. We'll be meeting again next week."

Harry suppressed a groan unlike some of his team mates.

After showering and listening numbly to the random chatter coming out of his fellow Gryffindors, Harry made an exit to go back to the tower. He couldn't be bothered to stay any longer than necessary and left his team to inspect the new Weasley gimmicks on their own. If he hurried, he'd still be able to make it to the last part of lunch.

At least, he had expected to go there when he was, once again, overcome by darkness.

_Bugger. Not again!_

He saw some other people in the corridor. Feebly, he tried approaching them for help. Tried telling them to go get a professor. But he found that he couldn't speak, and his feet did not move. Instead, he was frozen to the spot. Desperately, he tried to catch someone's eye but no one obliged.

He tried fighting it. He really did. But the darkness overcame him nonetheless, forcing his mind back into oblivion.

* * *

_Drip_.  
.

.

_Drip_.

.

.

_Drip. Drip._

Sluggishly, Harry tried to focus his eyes. To force back the black and welcome the light. But when he did, he noticed that he wasn't in Hogwarts. That is, perhaps he was but his awareness was in his own mind.

_Drip. Drip. Drip._

He recognised the black pool of water. The ripples of light parting the calm lake every time a drop hit its surface. There were no memories playing out but he did feel a presence in his mind. One that was strange and invasive but, at the same time, seemed very familiar. As if Harry had known it for years.

Whatever this was, Harry thought it important to try and break it. And so he focused on a memory. A benign one of him completing his History of Magic essay alongside Ron. He drew all of his focus to that particular memory. The details he still knew vividly since the scene had played out only one day prior. But nothing happened. Harry was not thrown into the scene and neither was the second presence. No, instead it seemed perfectly content in hanging about, coating Harry's mind in something vile. Something murky. Something very dark.

_Drip_.

Harry decided to focus on nothing but trying to find the second presence and forcing it out. While Snape had said that he would attack Harry at random, Harry did not think he was the one doing this right now. But Harry quickly banished that thought from his mind. It was, after all, quite obvious just who was playing mind games with him at the moment. And while he seemed preoccupied with… whatever he was doing, Harry could not allow himself to think about the Potions Master at all.

Finding the presence was different from before. In practice, earlier, the invading existence had always been contained. Isolated. Something that, while elusive, could be found and separated from the memory they were seeing. But this presence was very different. It was everywhere. Almost as if Harry was the one who was invading the other's mind. But that wasn't true. He recognised his own inner mindscape. He knew that he was still himself. But then why had the other presence, that was undoubtedly Voldemort, taken over like that? Was the man really that powerful? And if he was, what chance did Harry even stand?

_Drip. Drip._

_Get out of my mind, Tom!_

There came no response. No resonating voice and no lingering emotions in the background. Strange.

Harry tried building a wall of ice. He tried calling forth a blizzard but nothing happened. It was almost as if he was trying to cast a Patronus without his wand. The magic, or in this case the element, was there but Harry had no way of getting to it let alone use it.

But he had become aware and that had to count for something, right?

Time was a strange and fickle thing. It's something Harry had already noticed while practicing Occlumency before. But now that he had to wait for whatever this was to be over, he could truly appreciate just how slowly time progressed for him. He tried disturbing the waters beneath him but all he achieved were a few ripples. A splash or wave he couldn't manage. Then he tried venturing deeper into the lake as if he expected to find the shore. But that too was to no avail. Eventually, he settled on meditating to the best of his abilities, trying to lock on to the core of Voldemort's presence in order to kick him out. But he was inexperienced and very much so.

When he eventually came to, he knew it had nothing to do with his own skill. He had felt Voldemort's presence retreat and only seconds later he opened his eyes to find himself standing in front of the portrait of Basil Fronsac. He stared at it numbly, vaguely aware of the dripping wetness of his quidditch robes and the damp, musty smell that had settled within.

And then, as if he was struck by lightning, he realised that something else would have happened. That someone would be gone again. And now he could be sure that it wasn't him going on a rampage and vanishing people for no good reason. Well, it probably was but he was not the one in charge of his body when it happened. Right? Harry groaned to himself. Would that really matter to the rest? The truth of the matter was that, as soon as people became aware that something odd was going on, Harry would not be trusted any longer. Not even by those last few who stood by him despite the Prophet's lies. He would have no one left. But that didn't matter when others were in danger, did it?

_I have to tell Snape. Now!_

Harry rushed out of the second floor corridor and hurried all the way down to the dungeons. He ignored those that were heading out towards Hogsmeade as they dawdled in front of the gate, pushing past them. And he ignored Malfoy's befuddled look as he swept past the blonde without saying a word.

He shouldn't have waited as long as he had. He should have gone to a professor from the moment he suspected that he was behind these things. There were a lot of things he should have done differently, he knew. But this moment, right here, was the moment he could start to make things right. Even if the result was him being thrown into Azkaban or something.

When he reached the dungeon, he knocked feverishly on Snape's office door, the thumps of his fists echoing loudly throughout the stone corridor walls. The door was yanked open so suddenly that Harry almost lost his balance but instead he used the momentum to barge past Snape and into the office space.

"Mr Potter," Snape said, frowning somewhat. "What could possibly bring you here?"

Harry growled and shut the door behind him before addressing Snape.

"Can we talk?" he asked urgently. "In there?" He inclined his head towards the back wall to indicate that he wanted to speak somewhere more private. Snape looked at him oddly, for a moment, but acquiesced and opened the door.

Harry had taken only a few steps inside before he started rambling. "Someone else has probably disappeared just now," he said as Snape closed the door behind them. "I blacked out right after quidditch practice and I didn't mean to but things just happened! It was all around me. My robes are all wet and I couldn't disturb the waters! I promise that I never meant to but it's like second year all over again. I didn't want anything to happen to Crabbe and Goyle. Not like that but I still did things, I think. Have you ever possessed someone from a distance? Because I just need to know if –"

"Harry!" Snape finally interrupted. "Be quiet and sit down."

Harry did as Snape said and heavily sank into one of the azure pillows on the couch. He twiddled his thumbs nervously until Snape pushed a potion into his hands.

"Drink that," he ordered.

"There's no time!" Harry protested.

"Drink," Snape ordered again. "Right now we're losing time because I can't make sense of your incoherent babbling."

Somewhere in the back of Harry's mind, that made sense. So he drank the potion. A calming draught, he recognised. It immediately did its work and unscrambled Harry's fuzzy brain.

Snape took a seat across from Harry and regarded him with a look of infuriating calm. A calculating gaze that never failed to unnerve Harry. "Now," he then drawled. "From what I understood, you believe that another student has been taken and that you have something to do with it."

"Yes," Harry replied urgently.

"Because you blacked out?" Snape urged.

Harry nodded. "Yes, and that's the same thing that happened the last two times."

Snape narrowed his eyes at Harry which caused him to lean back a bit more. If looks could kill, that one would have skewered him. "And you didn't draw the connection before? You didn't think that random blackouts were good cause to visit the infirmary?"

Harry swallowed thickly. "I didn't know what was happening," he argued. "I didn't know what I was doing. If I was actually… guilty. I didn't know what to make of it!"

"What changed?" Snape barked. "Why have you suddenly decided to share your suspiciously well-timed blackouts?"

"Because I felt him this time!" Harry replied angrily. "I was never aware of anything before. I would just black out and wake up later. Hours later. But this time, I was stuck in my mind and I could feel his presence all around me. But I was stuck. I couldn't summon a memory or a wall. And, Professor, I couldn't find his hiding place. It was as if he was… everywhere!"

Snape inhaled sharply and rose from his seat. "Stay put, Po – Harry," he said. "I'll need to ask you more questions but for now, I must speak with the headmaster."

Harry nodded numbly and watched as Snape walked the few steps to his fireplace, tossed in some floo powder and called out for Dumbledore's office.

"Severus, my boy," boomed the jovial voice of Dumbledore. "How can I help you this fine afternoon?"

"I've no time for inane pleasantries, Albus," Snape snapped. "I have reason to believe that another student may have gone missing. I don't know from which house but I suggest that the numbers be counted as soon as possible."

"Severus, are you sure?" Dumbledore asked. "Half of the student body is probably halfway to Hogsmeade by now."

Snape glanced over his shoulder at Harry before replying. "I'm sure," he said. "Bring them all back if you must. I will count the Slytherins. And if you could tell Minerva that I have Harry Potter with me already, I would be much obliged."

Dumbledore said something so quietly that Harry couldn't hear it.

"Later, Albus," Snape urged. "For now, we have more urgent matters to attend to."

"You are right, of course," Dumbledore said. "I will speak with the other heads of houses. Provide me with the count of _your_ house as soon as you're able, Severus."

"Of course," Snape replied and with that the floo connection was broken.

"Sir," Harry started but Snape raised his hand and walked over to his desk. He wrote a quick note on a piece of parchment, folded it twice and then made it disappear with a flick of his wand. He then took his seat across from Harry once more and looked at him.

"You said you felt him this time," Snape said evenly. "Was it the Dark Lord? Did you recognise him?"

"I'm pretty sure it was," Harry replied. "I don't know what else it could have been."

Snape narrowed his eyes. "How are you feeling? Is there any lingering headache due to his intrusion?" He extended his hand and ignored Harry's minor flinch to brush away his fringe, inspecting the scar that was hiding behind it. "Your scar doesn't appear inflamed."

"No," Harry said. "I don't have a headache or anything. I'm just a bit woozy."

Snape frowned. "Woozy?"

"Yeah," Harry said uneasily. "I always feel a bit woozy after this happens."

Snape sat back and regarded Harry sternly. "This would mean that this is the third time this has occurred," he said. "And yet, you've told no one of the first two."

"I've told Ron and Hermione," Harry grumbled.

"Hm, I am surprised to hear that Ms Granger didn't urge you to seek help," Snape said, scowling. "For all her faults, I at least assumed she had a working brain sitting in her skull."

"Don't say that," Harry said as he rubbed at his eyes. He was feeling tired for some reason. "She told me to tell someone else. I just didn't listen to her." He then sighed and leaned his head back. "Don't you need to go count the Slytherins, sir?"

"My prefects will let me know once everyone has returned from Hogsmeade," Snape said. "Until such a time, there's no point in counting them."

"And what if someone is missing?" Harry asked, trying his best not to sound too worried. "Will I be expelled?"

"I see no reason why you should be," Snape said easily. "even if the Dark Lord is somehow using you to make other students disappear, which I feel cannot be said for certain, there are other things we can do to make sure that doesn't happen again. Not only that, but it would be prudent to teach you how to defend yourself against such attacks by means of Occlumency. Something you won't be able to do if we expel you."

Harry scoffed. "This is a special case, Professor," he said. "I doubt Occlumency has ever been tested against the kind of link I have with Voldemort. If he is taking over, I don't think I'll be able to stop it. I couldn't before."

"No, you couldn't," Snape said easily. "But you did become self-aware this time while before, you were sucked into unconsciousness. That tells me that you've made some sort of progress, even if this wasn't your goal. Occlumency must have helped."

"What good will that do me if I can't even make a barrier?" Harry asked. He felt annoyed at himself. "I couldn't manipulate anything."

"These things take time, Harry," Snape said. "You've only been at it for a couple of weeks. Surely you didn't think you could evict the Dark Lord from your mind already?"

Harry frowned. "I guess not," he said.

Snape regarded him for a long moment before speaking again, his voice exuding certainty and strength. "Let me help you," he said. "I realise very well that you haven't been able to lean on adults throughout your lifetime but I promise you that I can aid you in this."

"But how can you promise that?" Harry asked. "You've never seen this before."

"Not a year goes by that you don't perform a feat that, by all natural laws, should be considered impossible," Snape said easily. "The circumstances of those feats notwithstanding, you always seem to find a way to, much to my annoyance, save the day instead of those who should be responsible for your safety."

"So you've said," Harry replied.

"But you have yet to believe it," Snape pointed out easily. "You somehow still think you're the one who needs to step up and solve everything that goes wrong in this school. I can only imagine what that kind of stress has done to aggravate your situation."

Harry crossed his arms defiantly. "You're making me sound like some basket case," he said. "I can handle it."

Snape sighed and made a move as if to put a hand on Harry's shoulder but decided against it. "Harry," he said softly. "We both know that's not true, don't we?"

Harry would have replied something defensive, feeling ashamed at the recollection, when a piece of parchment appeared out of nowhere and floated in front of Snape's hand. He plucked it out of the air and unfolded it with one hand. Harry watched as the man's eyes took in the short message before putting it in his pocket.

"My Slytherins have all returned," Snape said. "I will go inspect them immediately. Hand me your wand, please."

"What?!" Harry exclaimed. "But what if something happens?"

"You are perfectly safe in my chambers, I assure you," Snape said. "Now hand me your wand and stay inside. I won't be long."

Harry still hesitated. Whatever was going on, he still felt that he was probably the main target. He always was, after all. And so deep in Slytherin territory, he was reluctant to hand over his wand when Snape wasn't going to be around."

"I will forcefully take it from you if I must," Snape said in a warning tone. "But I will assign you a lengthy essay on why you should listen to your guardian if you take it that far."

Harry bristled a bit. "Fine!" he bit out, roughly shoving his wand into Snape's hand. "If I get attacked, I suppose I'll just start throwing books or something!"

"You do that," Snape replied evenly. He then waved his wand and the walls shimmered again for a short moment. Without even sparing another glance, Snape left to the Slytherin common room, leaving Harry in his chambers.

Harry shrugged off his outer robes that were still saturated with water and dirt. A detail Snape had not yet latched on to. He hung them on a hanger near the door and inspected his hands. He hadn't noticed before but they were stinging a bit. Harry frowned when he saw that they were scuffed. As if he had fallen but put out his hands at the last moment to break his fall.

_You could be a bit more careful with my body, Tom._

Harry lay down on the couch and stared at the ceiling above him, sighing deeply. The enchantment showed the sun shining from behind a few white clouds. It didn't look like there would be any rain today. And he wondered how it could possibly be such a nice day out when people were disappearing.

_And I came running to Snape for it. Even after promising myself that I wouldn't bother him too much._

Harry closed his eyes and rubbed at them again from behind his glasses. It was ridiculous how weary he felt but he thought that had everything to do with the long quidditch practice he endured earlier. He was sure that it would be alright if he rested his eyes for a bit. It's not as if he had any urgent essays that needed doing and Hermione couldn't nag him about studying in here. The peaceful quiet was actually quite nice. Soon, Harry had drifted off.

* * *

"Severus!" The voice of McGonagall startled Harry awake and he sat upright as quick as a jack-in-the-box would spring from its container. Harry immediately saw the floating head of his head of house in the fireplace and was about to respond when he saw something move in his peripheral vision.

"I'm here, Minerva," Snape said. Harry looked at him in a sort of daze. The man had been sitting in a nearby chair, reading a thick book he had now closed around his index finger. He glanced furtively at Harry before he kneeled in front of the fireplace. "What is your final count?"

"Everyone is here," McGonagall said. "Only Harry Potter isn't in his room."

"Albus has given you my message, I would hope?" Snape asked.

"Yes," McGonagall replied sharply. "Though it has taken some convincing on my part to assure his dormmates that he's alright. Honestly, Severus, I can't imagine why he's there with you at this time of day. I thought this was a measure to deal with his visions?"

"As I'm sure I've mentioned before, these visions don't only manifest at night," Snape said easily.

"Are you saying that Mr Potter has had another one?" McGonagall asked worriedly.

Harry huffed. He knew that both of his professors were aware if him being there and didn't exactly appreciate being talked about as if he wasn't in the room.

Snape glanced at him and fixed him with a stern glare before responding to the fierce Gryffindor professor. "Yes," he said. "he did."

"Is that why the headmaster has ordered for an immediate inspection of all the houses?" McGonagall asked.

"I'm afraid you will have to direct any further questions to the headmaster, Minerva," Snape said. "You realise that I am not at liberty to divulge everything I know."

"He's in Gryffindor," McGonagall snapped. "Not Slytherin."

"I can't see what marking your territory has to do with any of this, Minerva," Snape drawled. "I assure you that I did not capture your precious lion and locked him in the dungeons against his will if that is what you think."

"No, of course not," McGonagall admitted, though she still sounded a bit peeved. "But I'm looking out for him. And I can't do that if I don't have all the information."

"Again, I must refer you to Albus," Snape said easily.

"You and your secrets," McGonagall hissed.

Harry couldn't listen to the back and forth anymore. While he appreciated the fact that McGonagall was looking out for him, he didn't like her prying. He also didn't like that Snape was protecting his secrets by intentionally scorning his head of house. He didn't know if the two got along, normally – honestly, he didn't think Snape much got along with anyone – but if they did, he didn't want to be the reason that they didn't anymore.

"It's alright, Professor," he said before Snape could respond. He had climbed out of the comfortable couch and went to kneel besides the Potions Master to meet the gaze of his head of house. "I'm alright."

McGonagall seemed to look him over appraisingly. "Mr Potter," she said. "It's good to see you. Do you expect you'll be coming back to the tower today?"

"I think we will await the final count of all the houses here, Minerva," Snape interjected coldly. "We wouldn't want Mr Potter roaming the hallways by himself if there has indeed been another abduction not so long ago. After all, we wouldn't want him falling victim to the same perpetrator."

"And that's alright with you?" McGonagall asked Harry, her expression stern. "Truly?"

Harry chuckled uneasily. "Don't worry, Professor," he said. "I'm not being held here against my will or anything."

"I never meant to imply that you were, Mr Potter," McGonagall said, pursing her lips. "Now, if you'll forgive me, my old bones are protesting against my idea of kneeling on the floor. If there's nothing else, I'll leave you two in peace."

"Thank you for the information, Minerva," Snape said brusquely. "We'll see you at dinner."

McGonagall nodded one last time before breaking the connection and disappearing from the fireplace.

"Wow," Harry said. "She really is worried, isn't she?"

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose while getting back to his feet. Some of his bones cracked lightly and Harry winced sympathetically. "As long as she doesn't know the full truth in regards to your personal problems, I fear that she may remain suspicious," he replied. "For a Gryffindor, she is remarkably clever."

"I'm sorry," Harry said, ignoring the jibe directed at his house. "I don't mean to cause any friction between the two of you."

Snape snorted. "Worry not," he said. "The relationship between, Minerva and me has not changed in the slightest. She can be a bit temperamental at times." He then quickly fixed Harry with a glare. "Don't tell her I said that."

Harry smiled a bit. "I won't," he said. "But hey, how long have you been back?"

Snape sat back down in the chair he had previously occupied. "A short while," he said. "Half an hour give or take."

"And you didn't wake me up?" Harry asked in bewilderment.

Snape raised a sardonic eyebrow. "Should I have?" he asked. "There is nothing you can do right now, awake or not. And you appeared weary."

Harry sank back down in the couch. It was quickly becoming his favourite spot in Snape's chambers. "Fine," he allowed. "Will you at least tell me if another one of the Slytherins has gone missing?"

"Everyone is accounted for," Snape replied easily. "They will be staying in their dormitory until further notice. Regrettably, several of them have already made it to Zonko's so I can only imagine the kind of mess I'll be walking in on later on."

Harry smiled. The Gryffindor common room would probably not look much different.

"I have yet to hear from Professors Flitwick and Sprout," Snape then said. "But I expect they won't be long. Would you like some tea while you wait?"

Harry wrinkled his nose. "I don't know," he said. "Will it be laced with a calming or sleeping draught? Maybe both at once?"

"Laced with sugar and nothing else," Snape replied, a hint of an amused smile tugging at his lips. "Unless you'd like to get back to your nap. Has anyone ever pointed out to you that you curl like a kitten?"

Harry scoffed. "Do not," he replied. "And I don't need a nap. I'm not seven."

_Even if I did just fall asleep on the couch…_

"Tea then?" Snape offered again.

"Please," Harry finally accepted.

Mesmerised by the fresh oddness of it all, Harry watched as Snape manually boiled water and made a pot of tea with the precise movements one could only expect from a potions master. When the timer finally indicated that the tea had steeped for long enough, he poured the both of them a cup and brought Harry one of them complete with sugar as he liked it.

"T-Thanks," Harry said as he accepted the cup. He hissed slightly when the hot cup made contact with the fresh scuff marks on his hands but after the initial irritation, the ache faded and he drank gratefully.

_This is better than the house-elves' brew!_

"This is great," Harry said gratefully, setting his cup down for the moment. He then noticed that Snape was staring at him with a frown. "Er… is there something wrong?"

_Did I break etiquette or something? Oh right, don't you have to use your pinkie finger to set down a cup noiselessly? How posh._

"What happened to your hands?" Snape asked.

"Oh," Harry replied with a slight blush. "I'm not sure. I think I might have fallen while I was out of it. I don't remember it happening, in any case."

"And why haven't you mentioned it?" Snape asked.

Harry almost laughed at the hilarity of the situation. "What?" he asked. "They're just a few scuff marks. Every kid gets them. It's really nothing."

_Especially compared to the marks on my back._

Snape took out his wand and waved it, casting a non-verbal spell. "Is it possible that you occasionally forget the fact that you're a wizard?" he asked with a sigh. "While not serious, it is rather ridiculous to suffer from the discomfort of that injury while a simple potion can heal it within an instant."

"A potion?" Harry asked incredulously. "For something like this? Honestly, that goes a bit far."

A potion flew in at that moment and landed in Snape's outstretched palm. "Just open your hands and sit still," the man ordered.

"Really," Harry protested again. "This is so unbelievably unnecessary. I'm sure you can use that potion for worse injuries."

"Have you forgotten that I'm a Potions Master and that I can always brew more should I ever require it?" Snape asked. "Now will you stop being difficult about every little thing and just hold out your hands?"

Harry did as Snape said but wasn't done protesting. "These heal in days if you just leave it," he said. "The pain builds character."

"Oh it does, does it?" Snape asked, tipping the potion vial slightly so a few drops fell into each of Harry's open hands. "And who told you that? Your aunt?"

"Well… yes," Harry admitted.

Snape scoffed. "I imagine that her precious son never needed to endure much pain," he said gruffly.

"No," Harry replied. "But he didn't have much character either, now did he? Oh wow, that really works quickly!" Harry watched how his hands healed within seconds. He wasn't sure what that potion was but it sure worked fast.

"It only works on minor injuries such as those," Snape said. "But it does the trick."

"Thank you sir," Harry said honestly. "Really, I – that was really decent of you."

Snape actually appeared a bit annoyed by that. "You're acting as if I just bought you a pet kneazle or something. It was inconsequential and I'll hear nothing more of it."

Harry smiled. "Okay," he agreed. He was still looking at his healed hands in awe.

"Are there any other such injuries you're hiding for no good reason?" Snape then asked.

Harry sipped his tea to buy him some time. Should he tell Snape about his back? If he did, he would have to explain about Umbridge. And if he did that, Snape would have to deal with her as well. And he was already doing enough for Harry. Harry didn't want his goodwill to run out. No, Snape was already doing more than enough for him and Harry was not about to chase the man off by proving just how much work he could be.

"No, sir," he finally said, trying to sound as convincing as he could.

"Really?" Snape asked slyly. It was evident from his tone of voice that he didn't believe Harry.

_Quick. Distract him!_

But if you know any good cleaning spells, my robes are very dirty," Harry said quickly, motioning towards his quidditch robes still hanging from the hanger. Snape's gaze locked onto the garment and he narrowed his eyes.

"How did they get to be in such a state?" he asked. "It hasn't rained in days."

"I don't know," Harry replied honestly, happy with the change in subject. "They look like that every time I… black out."

"Is that so?" Snape asked. He walked over to examine the robes closely, feeling the hem between his fingers and sniffing the particularly dirty patches. Harry watched him for a long moment but Snape seemed more puzzled than before.

"Sir?" Harry tried.

"It's odd," Snape said. "I don't recognise the soil at all. Could you have ventured somewhere deep in the forbidden forest, I wonder? Somewhere near water, I would imagine. But no, would you have had the time for that? Exactly how long are you gone each time?"

"A couple of hours," Harry said. "Sometimes more than a couple. Why?"

"Hmm," Snape responded. "I will have to think about this for a while." He then waved his wand and Harry's robes were clean again. "Given enough time I am sure that we can figure this out."

_Is it me or is he getting excited about this?_

Suddenly, the floo flared to life again and this time, Dumbledore stepped through to get into Snape's quarters. Harry thought he seemed awfully frazzled.

"Severus," the old man said hurriedly. "Harry," he added after seeing the boy. "You seem to be settling in well."

Harry smiled thinly as he lifted the cup of tea but this time, he was the one that didn't want to meet Dumbledore's eyes. He couldn't. Not knowing what the man knew.

"Albus," Snape said before Dumbledore could pick up on Harry's distant behaviour. "Have you heard from the other houses?"

"I have, my boy," Albus said gravely. "And it is as you suspected."

Harry fixed his gaze on the Potions Master and watched him scowl. "How many were taken this time?" he asked.

"Three students," Dumbledore replied sombrely. "Kim Sheringham from Ravenclaw and Hannah Abott and Susan Bones from Hufflepuff."

"Three!" Snape repeated. "How could this have happened?"

"That's what I'd like to know, Severus," Dumbledore said as he took a seat. "I wonder. Did you have something to tell me?"

Snape glanced at Harry before nodding. "Yes, Albus," he replied honestly and Harry couldn't help but feel his anxiety return. What if Dumbledore wouldn't want him anymore after this? What if they all decided that he was just too dangerous to keep around? Harry was surprised when he felt a touch of Legilimency. Just a touch. Enough to reassure him that Snape was on his side in this. He relaxed a bit as he watched the exchange further.

Snape sighed deeply. "There is something that we must discuss."

* * *

_This mystery is far from over, folks. But things are definitely progressing. I'd be happy to hear your thoughts. Please do review and I'll see you on Friday._


	24. Chapter 24

_As always, thanks for all the reviews, guys! I just want to make it perfectly clear that I haven't forgotten about Umbridge. Things are not just going to go away unpunished but I need you to be a bit patient. Several things are happening at once and they are far from over. Umbridge will get what's coming to her... eventually._

_Please enjoy this chapter!_

* * *

**Chapter 24**

Harry sat there, feeling entirely disconnected while Snape spoke with Dumbledore. He could feel both men glancing at him occasionally but didn't acknowledge them. Right now, he was happiest having someone else do the talking for him. Someone who was – much more than he was – able to come across coherently. He focused on the little things. The cup of tea Snape had made for him, still sitting on the table which he was not picking up out of fear of disrupting the two men. His newly healed hands and the slightly different feel of the faded line on the back of his hand when he caressed it with his thumb.

The baritone of Snape's voice seemed to be humming from somewhere far away. Much like background noise. The sound of Dumbledore didn't even seem to fully register. Three more people had disappeared. Three girls. How could this have happened? Had they been together at the moment of the… attack? Was Harry really behind this in some form or another? Could he have handled three people by himself?

A hand on his shoulder startled him and he quickly looked up to see Snape looking at him. He wouldn't meet Dumbledore's eyes. The conversation seemed to have stopped.

"Yes?" Harry asked stupidly.

"The headmaster asked you if you were feeling alright," Snape said.

"Well… no actually," Harry said honestly, swivelling his gaze to look at the headmaster. He only just caught the man looking away from him but right now, Harry didn't mind as much. "How could I be? People are disappearing and I know that I have something to do with it."

"You can't know that for certain," Dumbledore said placatingly. "Correlation is not the same thing as causation. In fact, it is my belief that someone would very much want you to believe that you are behind these things, even if you're not."

"But what if I am?" Harry asked. "Isn't the most obvious answer most often the truth?"

Dumbledore chuckled. "My dear boy," he said kindly. "In the magical world, there is no such thing as an obvious answer as I'm sure you must have realised."

"What do you think has happened to them, Professor?" Harry then asked. "Do you think they're…" he couldn't bring himself to say it.

"It is my belief that the missing students are still very much alive, Harry," Dumbledore said, indisputable certainty in his voice. "Should they not be, there wouldn't be a point in taking them away from here. And seeing how they have yet to turn up, dead or alive, I can't help but hope."

_Hope is dangerous._

Snape cleared his throat. "If the Dark Lord is truly behind this, I can assure you that he would take great pleasure in displaying his victims, had he killed them. I agree with the headmaster that they are likely still alive."

That, Harry could believe. "Right," he said. "That makes sense, I guess."

"Nevertheless, Harry, you understand that we have to look into what these blackouts mean," Dumbledore then said. "Related to this matter or not, it is a most worrisome experience."

Harry scoffed. "Tell me about it."

"Severus," Dumbledore said. "Have you any ideas as to what we can do about this?"

"Perhaps a cognizance trace would be prudent," Snape said thoughtfully.

"Severus," Dumbledore said, "You know I can't –"

"I was suggesting myself," Snape interjected smoothly.

Harry frowned. "Er…" he said. "What are you talking about?"

"A cognizance trace," Snape repeated plainly. "It's a way for a Legilimens to create a link between himself and another in order to keep aware of their consciousness. It used to be common practice for pureblood families to use this trace to remain aware of the state of mind of their elderly. After all, it wouldn't do for Black senior to run around London half-naked and start performing parlour tricks in front of the muggles."

"So you _do_ think I'm losing my mind," Harry accused.

"I most certainly do not," Snape replied sternly. "This trace can be used in a more versatile way than simply keeping an eye on the deteriorating members of our society. It is a most simple way for me to know instantly if and when you lose consciousness."

Harry frowned. "But you wouldn't know what brought it on, would you?" he argued. "What if I get hit in the head by a bludger?"

"Are you planning on passing out often because of quidditch-related injuries this year?" Snape asked sardonically.

"No, but that's not the point!" Harry argued. "Things happen, you know?"

"I do know," Snape said. "Which is why we need to do this."

"So would you be alerted to me falling asleep?" Harry asked, really not seeing how this would work.

"Sleeping and losing consciousness are two different things entirely," Snape replied. "Your brain reacts differently to both and the spell would recognise this." Snape frowned when Harry didn't react again.

_This all sounds extremely intimate._

"Harry?" Dumbledore prompted. "I stand behind the idea. It's a good one but I would understand if you'd rather not go through with it. If so, you'll understand that we'll have to keep you from going to class for a while."

"What?" Harry asked. "For how long?"

"Until we figure out what is happening," Snape replied. "There is no way to know how long that would be, exactly."

"Sir," Harry then said. "Wouldn't Voldemort know? If he really is in my mind, wouldn't he see that… connection?"

Snape smiled. "The Dark Lord might be hailed the most powerful Legilimens of our time but I assure you that that is not the case," he said. "I can hide my presence from him. Especially when he's preoccupied with… other things. You need not fear for my safety."

"But what about me?" Harry asked worriedly. "Would you be able to see my thoughts every moment of every day if you want to?"

"No," Snape said. "This spell would only alert me to the anomaly of unconsciousness and nothing more. I promise that I can't intrude more than necessary. Even if…"

"Even if what?" Harry asked. He noticed Snape and Dumbledore glance at each other. "What aren't you telling me?"

Snape sighed. "Harry," he said. "I know you've been a bit… reluctant about the fact that your Occlumency lessons might open our minds more easily to one another. I can be almost certain that this spell, once cast, will enhance that effect."

Harry didn't know what he was supposed to feel about that. A closer connection to Snape is something that still sounded a bit weird to him. But on the other hand, he couldn't forget that there were two beaters herding this bludger.

"What about _you_, sir?" Harry asked. "Wouldn't you feel… violated to be forced to do this?"

"I am perfectly capable of making this decision for myself," Snape replied evenly. "As it is, no one is forcing me. This was my idea if you'll recall. I'm asking you to think this over for the benefit of yourself."

"Can I… have some time before I respond?" Harry asked.

"Of course, Harry!" Dumbledore exclaimed easily. "Just try not to take too long with your decision. As it is, I would prefer you don't leave these chambers until you do."

Harry nodded numbly. "I understand sir," he said.

"Oh, and one more thing, Harry," Dumbledore said lightly. "I believe it would be beneficial for you to contact your godfather in the near future."

"Sirius?" Harry asked, ignoring Snape's dark scowl.

"Why, yes," Dumbledore replied happily. "Suffice to say that he has been contacting me relentlessly about the fact that he has yet to hear from you. I expect that he believes me to be hiding some sort of horrible magical accident from him. And besides, I believe that it would do you good to speak with him."

"Right," Harry said doubtfully. "I'll give it some thought."

"That's all I can ask of you, my boy," Dumbledore said, smiling pleasantly. "Now, I have some things I need to attend to. Look after Harry, Severus. And inform me of the decision as soon as it's been made."

"Of course, Albus," Snape said easily. Dumbledore disappeared in a green flash of the floo, leaving Harry and Snape behind once more.

"You haven't been writing to Black?" Snape asked after a short moment.

Harry shrugged. "There was not much to tell," he said solemnly.

"Not much you were _willing_ to tell, you mean," Snape pointed out.

"Same difference," Harry replied evenly.

Snape eyed him curiously. "Loath as I am to tell you this, I do believe it would be in your best interest to pick up a quill and write to that… to your godfather," he said.

Harry scoffed. "I find that unlikely," he pointed out.

"Is there something I missed?" Snape asked. "I got the impression that you got along well with Black. Almost as much as your father back in the day –"

Harry shot him a withering look but quickly found that Snape didn't mean that in a disparaging way.

"I had suspected that you would write to each other often," Snape added.

"Well, you're wrong, aren't you?" Harry snarled.

"Harry," Snape chided in a warning tone of voice.

"I just wouldn't know what to say to him, alright?" Harry snapped angrily. "How do you imagine my letter should go? Dear Sirius, not much has happened besides my relatives beating me up so badly that even Snape took pity on me. Between having Voldemort in my head and dodging the common Hogwarts dangers, I simply haven't found the time to write to you yet. Fun fact! When you try to hang yourself, you'd best jump from a fair distance or you won't die on impact! How's that sound to you?!"

By the end of his rant, Harry had been shouting. Now breathing harshly, he was staring Snape down with a challenge in his eyes, daring the man to say something. Snape stared back, his expression cold and unyielding.

"You forgot to mention the rubber ducks in the shower," Snape said casually. "I'm certain Black would have a long laugh with that."

Harry stared at him incredulously. "What?"

Snape sighed. "I apologise," he said. "A poor attempt at humour." He waved his hand as if to brush off his previous comment. "Would you ah… feel up to a game of chess?"

_Is he… nervous?_

"Alright," Harry said, still feeling somewhat rough. "But you know I'm pants at it."

"I'm aware," Snape said slyly. With a flick of his wand, he summoned his chess set and set it up on the coffee table. He turned the white side towards Harry and took the black side for himself.

_Ah, predictable. _

Snape seemed to want to talk about something. But it wasn't until a few moves in that he spoke. "I realise that you were upset before," he said. "But I couldn't help but notice the blasé way with which you brought up your suicide attempt. You –" Snape sighed before looking away from the board and at Harry. "You spoke as if you regret your poor execution of it."

Harry almost laughed. Talk about choosing your words poorly! Instead, though, he tore his gaze away. "So what if I do?" he asked.

Snape moved his knight to take one of Harry's pawns. "I suppose that I had hoped that things might not look as dark as they had that day," Snape offered.

Harry scoffed. "Did you forget the part where three new people disappeared today?" he asked

"I did not," Snape said simply. "But you must note that the headmaster and I are offering you our help."

Harry huffed and moved another pawn.

"I can see that we have a lot left to discuss," Snape said. "And I would like to start today. The lack of regret you feel towards your actions has me somewhat worried, I must admit."

"Your move, Professor," Harry said blandly.

Snape made a move without even really looking at the board. "I would very much like to start at the crux of the matter," he said. "Your relatives."

Harry groaned. "This again?" he asked.

"Yes, this again," Snape said. "If only for the reason that we hardly ever engaged in a true conversation on the subject, let alone finished one. And seeing how you're not about to confide in your head of house or godfather, there is hardly anyone left but myself and Professor Dumbledore. Unless you'd prefer to speak with your head of house after all?"

"No," Harry grumbled reluctantly.

"How long has this been going on for?" Snape asked, his voice as even as always.

Harry decided that it would be best if he got this over with now. He shrugged. "They've never really liked me," he said reluctantly. "But they only really started hitting me after the first time I did accidental magic."

"How old were you for that?" Snape asked.

Harry hesitated for a short moment. "Five," he finally admitted. "Dudley had drawn on the wall and blamed me. Aunt Petunia was so mad that I… well, something happened and suddenly the wall was clean again. That made her even angrier, of course."

Harry noticed that Snape was clenching his jaw but when he spoke, his voice was controlled and even. "Accidental magic is entirely normal among the children of wizardkind. You understand that now, I hope?"

"I know," Harry said dully. "But normal for us is not the same as normal for the Dursleys. Aunt Petunia in particular really hates magic."

"Your aunt is a narrowminded person, much like her husband," Snape growled steadily. "It is only a miracle that you haven't grown up to hate magic as well."

"I did for a while," Harry admitted. "I even tried to fix it."

He didn't know why he was talking so easily. For a moment, he suspected that Snape had dosed his tea with veritaserum or something but he quickly brushed off that thought. No, the man wouldn't do that. It was odd but something about the banality of a game of chess helped him talk about these things. But he had to admit that his growing trust for the Potions Master had a lot to do with it as well. He glanced up to see Snape fix him with a calculating stare.

"You tried to… fix it," he said coldly. "And how, pray tell, did you seek to achieve that?"

"Well… don't laugh at me. I didn't know any better," Harry warned. "I learned that some medicine was based on plants and thought I could find a cure that way. So I made a stew out of all the plants and flowers I could find that didn't grow in Aunt Petunia's garden. I got a lot of them from the park. It smelled horrible. When I thought it was ready – however I deducted that – I drank it. Well, some of it."

"Are you trying to tell me that you attempted to brew a potion to rid yourself of magic?" Snape asked incredulously.

"Of course you would think it was a potion," Harry sighed. "I just thought it was medicine. Only, it was not. If anything, it made me incredibly sick."

"I can imagine that at least one of the plants you randomly picked was not edible," Snape pointed out.

"You don't have to tell me that," Harry snorted. "I am very much aware of that now. It was a stupid idea and clearly, it didn't work. If anything, it only made Aunt Petunia even angrier."

"Yes," Snape drawled. "Wouldn't any mother be angry at a child when it tries to poison itself just to try and get her to like him."

Harry chuckled bitterly. "I wasn't allowed out of the cupboard until I was better," he said. "And that took a while."

"She didn't take you to see a doctor?" Snape asked.

"Oh no," Harry said easily. "Freaks don't go to doctors, you see? That would cost far too much money."

Snape scowled. "Is that so?" he asked.

"That's how it was," Harry said as casually as he could. He moved his tower to take one of Snape's pawns.

"How often did they feed you?" Snape then asked, taking Harry's tower with his own.

"Almost always at least once a day," Harry said softly. "Unless I was punished, of course. Then I wouldn't eat for days at a time."

Snape growled dangerously. A sound that seemed to come from somewhere deep down his throat.

"The thing is," Harry continued, "those were the punishments I preferred. Going hungry is nothing. I can take it. And sometimes I'd be able to nick something from the bin without them noticing." He moved his queen forward, trying to entrap Snape's bishop. "Even Uncle Vernon's occasional lashing was not the worst of it. Not for me." He glanced at Snape to see just how ridiculous the man thought him to be. But he found no sneer or conflict. No, the man was simply looking at him. Watching him. Giving him his full attention. It was almost as if he cared. None of his focus was on the chessboard.

"The worst of it was Aunt Petunia," Harry then said. "I know it sounds stupid but… the things she said to me… sometimes they were worse than what Uncle Vernon did." Harry slowly rubbed his upper arms as he subconsciously tried to make himself smaller. He watched his pawns egging Snape's king on.

"I don't believe that to be stupid at all," Snape replied. There was a sort of warmth in his voice that Harry had never heard from him before. "The people we care about are often able to hurt us tremendously by use of their words. Nothing can cut deeper or leave a more permanent scar." Harry noticed the flicker of regret that shone in Snape's eyes, if only for a moment. "Though that doesn't excuse your uncle in the slightest, you realise."

"I guess," Harry said uneasily. He watched as Snape finally moved a pawn to block his bishop from Harry's queen.

"Have you ever tried telling someone?" Snape then asked.

"A couple of times," Harry said. "But no one ever believed me. Aunt Petunia has been telling people from the start just how… bad of a kid I was. And everyone was always saying just how nice she was to take me in, in the first place. Aunt Marge says she would have left me in an orphanage first chance she got."

"Yes," Snape drawled. "Unfortunately, I had the pleasure of meeting this… _lovely_ woman."

For a moment, Harry couldn't help but smile a little. But it didn't last long. "She wasn't the only one," he replied. "Everyone assumed I was a trouble maker no matter what I did. And I tried. I really, really did!"

"I know," Snape replied.

"I did everything they asked. I did all my chores and I never, ever complained to them about it."

"I know," Snape repeated.

"She's my aunt!" Harry exclaimed angrily. "She was supposed to love me. That's the way things should go, shouldn't they? She's my family. The only family I have left but she doesn't want me!"

Snape carefully moved the table aside a bit. Harry hardly noticed. He was clenching his fists in his lap. His knuckles had turned white.

"Nothing I ever did was good enough for her. And all because I was magical like my parents. It's one of the only things I have from them and she resented me for it!"

Carefully, Snape reached out and put a hand on top of Harry's clenched fists.

Harry chuckled bitterly. "I'm a mess, aren't I? Broken like a taken chess piece."

"You are," Snape said, carefully squeezing Harry's hand. "But sometimes the things we break can be rebuilt into something even better. All it takes is a bit of trust."

Harry sniffed self-consciously and carefully raised his gaze to look at Snape again. "Do you really think so?" he asked, hating how fragile he sounded.

"I know so," Snape said confidently. "Your aunt and uncle might not see you for who you are but it appears to me that your cousin was starting to." Snape carefully moved his hand to Harry's shoulder. Harry stiffened for a second but relaxed just a moment later.

"I do realise that I've been acting based on a bias as well until very recently," he continued. "That was poorly done of me. I've said it before and I'll say it again. I'm starting to see you for who you really, truly are. You are not arrogant nor spoiled, though you certainly do have a knack for breaking the rules."

Harry laughed a bit. "I guess that's true," he admitted.

"I'll say," Snape said, a hint of amusement in his voice. But then he turned serious again. "Those disgusting muggles have never truly given you a home, I realise. But I like to think that home is not necessarily a place you come from. It might as well be somewhere you're going and have never seen before."

Harry snorted. "Getting poetic, sir?" he asked.

"Perhaps a little bit," Snape admitted. "But I would still like you to consider it. After all, I know that that house in Little Whinging is not, in fact, your home. And I'm sorry to say that it likely never will be. There is simply too much venom in your aunt's heart. She will never deserve to have you in her presence. But there are others who do. Others who would gladly take you in."

Harry couldn't help but shake the feeling that Snape had said something very important. That the man wanted Harry to understand something crucial. There was an urgency in his eyes. One that Harry didn't quite understand.

"I know that," he replied softly.

Snape nodded. "I know you do," he replied. "I just hope that soon, you will believe it as well."

He patted Harry a few more times on the shoulder, looking decidedly uncomfortable as he did so before moving the coffee table back into its rightful place. Snape took Harry's queen with his knight and smiled. "I think there is still much I can teach you," he said.

Harry snorted, relaxing a bit into his chair. "As long as you don't just tell me to use my dunderheaded brain, I'm game," he replied.

* * *

After playing a couple more games, Snape decided that it was time for dinner. Harry would have asked why they couldn't just go to the great hall for meals when he reminded himself that he still had a decision to make. So he just watched apathetically how Snape asked a house-elf to deliver some food to his personal chambers. It seemed to be something he was used to doing.

"Do you eat down here a lot?" Harry asked as he carefully stood behind one of the chairs.

"I occasionally require some distance between myself and the general student body," Snape said, easily taking a seat at the head of the table. "Aren't you going to sit?"

Blushing a bit because of his own awkwardness, Harry sat down to Snape's left. "I didn't realise we were that much of a bother," he said.

Snape scoffed. "I'm certain there's not a single person in this school that expects me to like the company of a gaggle of students. Especially the first and second years."

Harry chuckled. "Yeah, I suppose you're not exactly the type."

Food appeared on the table as well as a bottle of wine which Snape opened immediately. He filled his own glass as well as Harry's before plating his food. Harry waited patiently until the man was done taking what he wanted.

"Is there any reason in particular why you're staring at me rather than taking your own food?" Snape asked as he scooped op some beans. "It can't be the general shock of finding out that I don't actually consume potions instead of regular food. You've seen me eat before."

_God, but he's loquacious. _

"I was just waiting my turn, sir," Harry said.

"Ridiculous child," Snape muttered. "I realise that I'm not quite as… inviting as your Gryffindor friends are, but I would prefer it if you could try and behave according to how you normally do in the great hall. There is no need to await my express permission."

_Right, so you can take points for being impolite._

"You're still my professor," Harry pointed out, but he had taken one of the chicken breasts.

"In my personal quarters, I try and distance myself from that role," Snape said. He looked at Harry meaningfully. "I would appreciate it if you, in turn, behave more like yourself."

Harry smirked. "Are you sure about that?" he asked cheekily. "You might come to regret that decision."

Snape quirked an eyebrow. "Planning something, are we?" he asked.

"No," Harry said honestly. "Not yet."

"Just know that whatever game you play, I am most likely able to trump you," Snape said evenly as he daintily cut into his chicken.

"Fair warning?" Harry asked.

Snape smirked. "Indeed."

The rest of the meal was sat out in comfortable silence. Harry ate everything on his plate and even went in for seconds, glad that Snape didn't comment on it. All the while, he was mulling over his options in his head.

A cognizance trace. He had never heard of it before. But, of course, there weren't a whole lot accomplished Occlumens left, were there? Even the basic art wasn't common knowledge so any additional form of Occlumency – or in this case, Legilimency – was probably even more obscure. It was not as if Harry didn't trust Snape to know what he was doing but it would have been nice to talk this over with Hermione; she probably knew about it.

It was a bit scary to consider that this spell would make Snape aware of Harry's… constant endangerment. Did the man even know just how often Harry was in danger? Sure, he had been there for some of it. Had _saved_ him from some of it. But did he really know just how much of a risk Harry was?

_He might even lock me up in the dungeons forever once he realises that._

Not only that, but their shared link that Harry had already become aware of would become even stronger. And Harry wasn't even done with Occlumency yet. Not by a long shot. And Legilimency after that? Just how much was Snape asking Harry to trust him? Because this was a lot. Even Dumbledore had immediately shied away from the option saying that he couldn't do it. He didn't want to.

But not Snape. No, Snape had immediately said that he was willing to make this connection. He, much more than Harry, realised what was going on. He knew what he was getting himself into with the son of his nemesis.

But he didn't mind. No, steadfast and confident, he was willing to take this plunge. He was okay with a closer connection, one he had already started to forge just by allowing – no, practically demanding - Harry to stay in his quarters. And he hadn't been bad about it. At all.

And above all, this would help keep everyone safe, wouldn't it? Through this connection, Snape would immediately be able to find him and find out if he was, indeed, the person behind all of this. Finding out the truth, whatever that might be, was important to Harry. And if he was the culprit behind all this, they could find out just what had happened to the others.

Overcome with determination, Harry looked away from the pattern in the dark table he had been tracing with his finger and looked directly at Snape who was slowly swirling the wine in his glass.

"I want to do it," Harry said decidedly.

Instantly, Snape looked away from the glass and bore his eyes into Harry's. There was no question in whether or not he understood. "You are certain?" he asked.

Harry nodded. "Yes," he said with as much certainty as he could muster.

With a wave of his wand, Snape banished the leftovers of the meal and smiled at Harry. "I thank you for your trust, Harry," he said.

"Well… you did earn it," Harry said uneasily. "I'm the one who should be thanking you. I doubt there's any other student you put this much effort into."

Snape chuckled uneasily. "Some of my Slytherins can be rather high-maintenance," he said lightly though Harry thought he might just be putting up a front.

"So er…" Harry said. "Do you want to do it now or…"

"Yes," Snape said. "The sooner the better, I think."

Harry looked around him as if he would find something obvious for him to do. When he didn't, he looked back at Snape. "What do I do?" he asked.

"Nothing much," Snape said. "Sit down on that couch you seem to favour –" he smirked devilishly, "and allow me to enter your mind. Don't occlude and just relax. I will do the rest."

"Sounds easy enough," Harry said. He sat down and watched nervously as Snape did the same thing.

Snape chuckled. "Don't look so worried," he said. "I know what I'm doing."

"I know that," Harry mumbled, feeling somewhat put on the spot. "That doesn't make me any less nervous."

"Trust me," Snape said meaningfully. "Close your eyes. Just let it wash over you."

Harry closed his eyes and exhaled a long breath. "I do trust you," he said.

"I know," Snape replied. Two hands appeared on either side of Harry's face, the fingertips of Snape's index fingers connecting with his temples. And then came the feeling of being washed away by water. He was like a paper boat, floating unwillingly in the gentle hands of a shallow stream. A leaf, sitting lightly atop the undisturbed surface of a lake. He had never felt as safe as he did at that moment and he sighed in the calm of it all.

Inner peace was a term he had heard before in movies and storybooks. And he had never given it much thought. But if the concept was a real one, Harry imagined that this is what it had to feel like.

He knew that someone else, Snape, was in control. But that was alright. Harry trusted him with said control. He wanted to lean on Snape, even if he had never leaned on anyone before. Not like this. Snape was forging connections but hid them in plain sight where Harry could see them. Beams of light, shimmering off the surface of the water. And they felt as if they belonged. Almost as if they had always been there before.

Then, before Harry knew it, it was over. Snape left his mind and his eyes fluttered open to see the man sitting in front of him, regarding Harry carefully.

"What?" Harry asked.

"That went… surprisingly easy," Snape said. "Normally it…" Snape trailed off.

"Tell me," Harry urged.

"It doesn't matter," Snape said, shaking his head. "The connection has been established successfully. It will remain until such a day that it is safe for me to take it down."

"Thank you, sir," Harry said, still somewhat amazed at what he just experienced.

"No, Harry," Snape replied, "Thank you."


	25. Chapter 25

_A big thank you to everyone for their continued support and reviews. I'm getting a bit sick and tired of staying inside all day but when I get a message from you, I cheer up immediately._

* * *

**Chapter 25**

Harry sat in the desk chair in 'his room' in Snape's quarters, staring at a blank piece of parchment. Several other pieces had been crumpled up and tossed aside already. None of them seemed to work out quite the way Harry wanted them to. With his door open the way it was – so ordered by Snape – he could hear it every time the man turned a page of the book he was reading. It was something thick and old with an unpronounceable title.

Harry sighed and nibbled absentmindedly on the tip of his quill before bringing it down on the parchment again.

_Dear Padfoot,_

_Wonderful start. Fantastically original. And executed in the horrible penmanship that can only belong to a muggle-raised wizard. _

Harry rolled his eyes at his own sarcastic self and kept writing.

_I'm sorry that I haven't written to you yet. Dumbledore told me that you were getting kind of antsy while waiting for me. Don't give him a hard time. I've just been very busy._

_Things are, once again, becoming dangerous at Hogwarts. I'm sure you know by now but students are disappearing. So far, only Gryffindor has been spared. And I know what you're going to say; Slytherin must have something to do with it. But since two students from their house have gone missing as well, I really doubt it._

_Meanwhile, I'm getting visions from Voldemort. Nothing bad has happened in them but Dumbledore is pretty worried about them. That's why Snape is watching me closely to make sure I'm okay._

_Our defence teacher is rubbish and isn't teaching us anything valuable. That's why I've been thinking about starting my own defence club. With Voldemort back, I really think it's necessary to keep everyone on their toes, even if the ministry doesn't believe me. Combined with quidditch, I'm going to be very busy, it looks like._

_I hope you're staying safe and not doing anything too dangerous._

_See you soon._

_Harry._

Harry sighed heavily. It wasn't exactly a work of art but it would have to do. He wasn't ready to divulge his secrets to Sirius yet, especially since the man was very impetuous at times. If he heard about Harry's true state of mind, he would no doubt come rushing over no matter the danger. And Harry couldn't handle endangering the man like that. He also didn't think that telling him about staying at Snape's at night would be a good idea considering their colourful past. He might try to kill Snape for it and honestly, Harry didn't think Sirius would survive that.

If he had his wand, he could spell the ink dry but since Snape had confiscated it again, he had no choice but to wait patiently for it to dry on its own. He picked up the crumpled versions of the letter that had revealed too much information and tossed them all into the rubbish bin before exiting his room again. It's not as if he had any privacy in there, anyways.

Snape cast one look at him before smirking like a hyena.

"What?" Harry asked. "Is there something on my face?"

"As a matter of fact, yes," Snape said evenly. "Yes, there is. Has your head of house never taught you which side of the quill needs to touch paper?"

Harry looked at him for one more confused moment before scowling and rubbing at the corner of his mouth. "Oh, honestly," he scoffed before stomping into the bathroom to wash the ink off his face.

It had been a week now since Snape had created the cognizance trace and, much to Harry's relief, he didn't feel any different. As Snape had promised, the trace did not give him access to Harry's thoughts and memories whenever he would like. Not that Harry hadn't believed him but it's not as if spells like these were cast every day.

He scrubbed at his face with the soap until his skin turned pink but the ink was being dreadfully difficult.

_Fan- bloody – tastic._

"No cussing," Snape chided from the sitting room.

"What?" Harry shouted absentmindedly as he tried scrubbing harder with his fingernails. "I didn't say anything!"

"And yet I heard it," came Snape's easy reply.

Giving up, Harry decided that he might as well use a glamour charm to keep himself from being ridiculed in classes that day. He trudged back into the sitting room, a bit jealous that Snape could look so very awake this early in the morning and sat down heavily next to him.

"Can I have my wand back?" he asked.

Snape glanced him over and smirked. "The stain too stubborn for the muggle way, is it?" he teased.

"Obviously," Harry replied in his best Snape-drawl.

"Here." Snape waved his wand over Harry's face before he had anything to say about it. "All clean, though your cheek is now as pink as a peach."

Harry rolled his eyes. "That's fine," he said. "But I'll still need my wand for classes."

Snape handed Harry his wand that he had pocketed in his inner robe. "Be off now," he said. "And don't be late for potions class. I hear that Gryffindor is far behind Slytherin as it is."

"Only because of the biased professors," Harry muttered under his breath.

"Care to repeat that, Mr Potter?" Snape asked sternly.

Harry chuckled. "No thanks!" he called out as he rushed back into his room. He grabbed the now dried parchment and rolled it up, tying a red ribbon around it. He shoved it into his bookbag and rushed over to the fireplace.

"See you in class," Harry said before throwing in the floo powder and shouting his destination.

* * *

Harry chuckled when he saw just how much food Ron had plated and winked at Neville who smiled at him shyly. That boy really needed to get more self-confidence.

"Harry," Hermione said to get his attention.

"Hm?" Harry responded, already chewing his raisin bread.

"Ron and I were thinking…" Hermione said, seeming entirely unsure of what she was going to say. But Harry knew. He smirked inwardly thinking that it sure had taken his friends long enough to give in to his demands.

"We'd still like you to be the one to teach us defence, if you'd still want to," Hermione then said. "And since it means so much to you, I guess the Slytherins would be allowed to join as well."

Harry glanced at Ron and saw that his friend wasn't at all happy about that. But that was alright. He didn't need to be happy. He only needed to concede.

"And you'd be teaching them as well?" Harry asked. "As my assistants?"

"If they're willing to learn from me," Hermione huffed. "Then yes."

Harry smiled at her. "If they _don't_ want to learn from you, then they don't learn," he said. "Just because they're Slytherins, doesn't mean we have to put up with their pureblood ideals. I'll be sure to make that clear from the start."

"So you'll do it?" Ron asked hopefully.

Harry had already decided a few days ago that he would. All in all, this really was a good idea. "Yes," he said, "I will. But where and how will we do it?"

"I already have a plan for the how," Hermione said, teasing a golden coin between her fingers. "But I don't know of a good place yet."

"Hmm, I'll think about it," Harry said. He looked at the high table and met Snape's gaze. That turned out to be a miscalculated mistake. Before he knew it, the man had invaded his mind without any issue at all. Harry thought he had been keeping up a couple of basic walls at least at all times but if he had, Snape had bypassed them easily.

_Come on, I'm trying to eat, here._

**At least chew as you occlude or else everyone knows something is going on. **

Harry tried to do as Snape said but wasn't sure that he was succeeding. The unmistakable presence of Snape's mind was lurking nearby, prying into Harry's most secret thoughts and memories. He heard a distinct snapping sound but tried to ignore it.

Harry grabbed a memory he had readied for just this occasion and tossed it at Snape. It was the memory of Umbridge sidling up to Snape that one day, trying so very desperately to get the man to notice her. Her grubby hands were stealing the food off his plate and she devoured it in a way that she apparently thought to be seductive. Snape had never withdrawn that fast before.

Harry became aware of Hermione snapping her fingers in his face and he pushed her hand away. "Sorry," he mumbled. "Sneak attack from Snape."

He had warned his friends that this might happen if only so they could help him should he suddenly collapse into a bowl of soup or something.

"Ah," Hermione said, smiling slightly. She glanced at Snape who was looking at Harry with a look of disgust. "did it go well?"

"Not really," Harry admitted. "But hey, at least I had some fun with it."

"Fun?" Ron said in mind alarm. "Snape looks as if he's ready to kill you."

"Serves him right for testing me in the middle of a perfectly nice breakfast," Harry said haughtily before taking a big bite out of his jelly doughnut. It was a good thing that Umbridge wasn't sitting at the high table at that moment. From the fury and disgust Harry had felt at the last moment, Harry had thought Snape possible of hexing the woman on the spot. Not that he would have minded, of course.

It was after breakfast that Harry understood just why Umbridge had not been present. As soon as he walked out of the great hall, he nearly bumped into the horrible toad covered in pink as she stood in the middle of the hallway, waving her wand to keep something afloat.

"Mr Potter," Umbridge exclaimed with an exaggerated gasp. "Do mind where you're going!"

"I'm sorry, Professor Umbridge," Harry mumbled immediately, not eager to live through another one of her detentions.

"See to it that it doesn't happen again," Umbridge said in that saccharine voice of hers. "We wouldn't want you to get hurt now would we?"

"Come on, Harry," Hermione urged, clearly wanting to get out of there. Harry only got a glimpse of the framed parchment Umbridge seemed to be hanging on the wall before he was herded away by his friend. Ron trailed behind, seemingly as lost as Harry.

"What?" Harry asked when Hermione finally stopped her shoving.

"Didn't you see what she was doing?" Hermione asked.

"I couldn't, seeing how _someone_ was intent on getting me away from there," Harry said in mild annoyance.

"Only because _she_ seemed intent on giving you another detention," Hermione snapped right back.

"It looked to me as if she was hanging all sorts of new rules," Ron pointed out.

"Exactly!" Hermione said as she whirled on Ron. "Educational decrees, did you see? It's unbelievable. First, the ministry keeps an eye on Hogwarts through some official who doesn't even know how to teach and _now_ they're imposing their own rules!"

Ron scoffed. "I can't believe Dumbledore would allow for that to happen."

"Even Dumbledore isn't above the law," Hermione sighed. "And unfortunately, it is the ministry that creates those. It's a rather annoying situation, wouldn't you say?"

"Annoying?" Ron asked in disbelief. "I think it's a bit more than annoying. That woman is mental! Who knows what sort of rules she comes up with."

"The number one rule is probably not to mention Voldemort in any way," Harry said bitterly.

"Yes well, I'd rather find out while Umbridge is _not_ around to gauge our reactions," Hermione said softly. "Come on. Or we'll be late for Charms."

* * *

After all of his classes that day, Harry sent Hedwig off with his letter to Sirius before heading out to dinner. The affectionate familiar nipped his finger softly before taking flight and disappearing into the night sky. Harry watched her go for a while and only turned around when she disappeared out of sight. He hadn't expected to come face to face with Draco Malfoy.

"Potter," Malfoy spat in surprise when their eyes met. "Fancy meeting you here. I thought you didn't have any family left to send an owl to?"

Harry ignored the jibe. He immediately recognised that Malfoy was acting defensively. He was clutching a sealed piece of parchment in his hand while his eyes were on Harry.

"You forget I have a sizable fan club, Malfoy," Harry replied. "What about you?"

Malfoy snorted. "What, haven't you heard?" he said. "_I_ was voted Hogwarts's most delectable Slytherin in 'Hogwarts Hearsay'.

Harry sneered. He had never read that rubbish that the journalist club published and he wasn't about to start now. "That's not what I meant, Malfoy, and you know it," he said. "Who are you writing to?"

"Not that it's any of your business, but I'm writing my mother," Malfoy replied haughtily.

Harry glanced at the carefully sealed parchment again and frowned. "That seems awfully official for a familiar correspondence," Harry noted.

"Like you would know," Malfoy snarled. "And believe it or not but a Malfoy will always stick to proper decorum. Even when addressing their own family."

Harry couldn't say anything to that. It was probably true.

_Why am I even provoking him? Seriously, he didn't even do anything._

"Sorry," Harry mumbled. "I shouldn't have pried."

"What?" Malfoy asked, staring at him with a dumbfounded expression that was almost laughable.

Harry sighed. "Hard of hearing, Malfoy?"

"Just go already," Malfoy then said as he approached a rather large eagle-owl. Harry didn't want to disturb this awkward semi-peace and took his leave, crossing the grounds to reach the great hall again.

As he approached the hall, he saw some of the new 'rules' Umbridge had hung on the wall. A small part of Harry had hoped that Dumbledore or one of the teachers would have taken them down but that hadn't happened and he realised that Hermione was right. The ministry had all the power here. Harry gritted his teeth in anger as he contemplated the stupidity of allowing Umbridge in, in the first place.

_Crazy old coot._

When Harry entered the great hall, he noticed that every table was abuzz. Even the Slytherin's. Many glances were thrown in Umbridge's direction who just sat there prim and proper as if she was basking in the unhappiness of everyone.

"Truly evil, that one," said one of the Weasley twins who threw an arm around Harry's shoulder.

"Yeah, she's probably a descendant from Salazar Slytherin herself," the other one said, slinging his arm atop his brother's to weigh Harry down even more.

"It's no wonder ol' Snape doesn't want her –"

"Even _he's_ not as much of an evil bastard."

Harry snorted. "I'm sure you won't follow her rules anyway."

"Haven't even read them, Harrykins," Fred or George said.

"Haven't followed a rule since we got here. Why would we start now?" George or Fred added.

Then they both whispered at the same time. "Speaking of which, you'll have a show to watch." They then pushed Harry down next to Ron before he could even respond and inclined their heads meaningfully in Umbridge's direction.

"What's going on?" Ron asked, his mouth unpleasantly stuffed to the brim.

"Patience, brother," came the answer in unison. Fred tousled his hair before sitting next to his twin where he engaged in another round of pleasant banter.

"I hope they didn't do anything stupid," Hermione hissed. "Umbridge really seems to be looking for excuses to expel just about anyone."

"Something tells me they don't really care about that, Hermione," Harry said. He started eating dinner while glancing at Umbridge as casually as he could. He didn't have to wait long. After taking a couple of bites of her casserole, Umbridge's hair began to quickly change form. Her carefully coiffured curls straightened themselves upward in a gravity-defying motion. They twisted into semi-long spikes and coloured a revolting green that clashed terribly with her pink outfit.

Umbridge didn't even seem to notice. She just kept eating even when Trelawney looked at her in horror.

"And now," Fred said importantly. "For the piece de resistance!"

The twisted spikes that were Umbridge's hair suddenly lit up with small flames as if they were birthday candles. They danced merrily on top but didn't burn her hair while the ridiculous black bow she always wore rearranged itself into a festive ribbon surrounding the 'candles'.

Everyone at the Gryffindor table burst into laughter only to be followed by the other tables including Slytherin. Umbridge look around, her face entirely appalled but none of the teachers seemed to take on the task of explaining her predicament to her. In fact, most of them looked away pointedly while trying not to laugh.

Umbridge rose from her seat and went to stand behind Dumbledore to whisper something in her ear but the man merely smiled at her and offered her some of the mashed potatoes. She looked absolutely furious.

"The one who dares blow out those candles gets their wish granted by us," Fred and George announced at their table.

"No, thanks," Harry chuckled. "Death by Umbridge doesn't seem like a pleasant way to go."

Umbridge might be vile but she wasn't stupid. She realised full well that she was the cause of all the laughter and so she finally stomped out of the great hall with the rest of her food going untouched. Harry saw Snape pick up her goblet and sniff the contents before setting it back down with a slight smirk on his face.

"Looks like the dungeon bat is on to us," Fred hissed in a stage whisper.

"I think that, for once, he'll let this slide," Harry said confidently.

"If it's not a rule yet, she'll probably ban all practical jokes from here on out," Hermione pointed out, even though she couldn't stop smiling.

"You can't tell a bird not to fly –" Fred said.

"Or a fish not to swim," George added.

* * *

When Harry returned to Snape's quarters sometime after dinner, the man was already in, judging by the teaching robes hanging by the door. Since he was nowhere to be found, Harry assumed that he was in his office. Knowing better than to disturb the man in there, Harry got started on his homework. Since he came here, he never fell much behind anymore, much to Hermione's pleasure, and he had to admit that there was a certain charm to finishing your essays with loads of time left to spare.

Harry usually went to sit in his room but the chilly dungeon air was getting to him so he made himself comfortable on the carpet in front of the fireplace just to be able to soak up the warmth of the flames as he researched the possibilities of combined transfigurations.

He was so focused that he hadn't even noticed it when Snape came back into the sitting-room about an hour later.

"I was under the impression that you have a perfectly fine desk in your room," Snape said, startling Harry into attention.

Harry looked over his shoulder to see Snape staring down his nose at him, brandishing a cup of tea. "I do," he replied.

"And yet you prefer the floor?" Snape asked.

"It's warmer here," Harry said as he rose into a sitting position rather than lying flat on his belly.

"Hm," Snape responded as he sat down in his chair.

"Are you done grading already?" Harry asked.

"For now," Snape said as he waved dismissively. "One does well with a respite every now and then. And there are certain things that require my attention as well."

"Such as?" Harry asked, his homework now completely forgotten. "If it's about Occlumency, I have that memory still at the ready, just for you."

Snape smirked. "How wonderful of you to come prepared," he said. "But don't forget that the point here is for you to not let me in, in the first place."

"I know," Harry sighed. "I just didn't see it coming. And before you say it, I know that that's the point but it's just not that easy, you know?"

"I do know," Snape said. "That aside, the memory you used to deflect my presence was well-chosen indeed."

Harry smiled nervously. "So you're not taking points for it?"

Snape smirked. "You expected me to?" he asked. "Well, then perhaps I should. It wouldn't do for me to disappoint."

"No, no!" Harry laughed. "There's no need. I'm sure I'll live it down."

"Pity," Snape said. He sipped his tea and looked at Harry's open books. "Just be mindful that those don't go up in flames while you work."

"I will," Harry assured him. Snape stood from his seat to go back to his office when there was a sudden banging on his chamber door.

"Severus!" came the shrill panicked voice of one Dolores Umbridge. "Severus, if you please. Open up!"

Harry blinked. "What's she doing here?" he hissed.

"Up," Snape immediately ordered. "Go to your room and stay in there until I come and get you. It wouldn't do for that woman to see you in here."

Harry hesitated for a moment. He didn't know what Umbridge was planning by coming here. "But –"

"Do as I say," Snape hissed. "And do so now. I will not ask again."

_Well, he's awfully nervous. Must be butterflies._

Snape looked at him strangely as Harry hurriedly gathered his books but didn't say anything else.

"Severus, you can't keep me waiting. I demand you allow me entry!"

Harry disappeared into his room and closed the door, happy that is was designed to open inward. After he closed it, he sat down on the floor and put his ear against the wood. Snape had told him to stay out of sight but he hadn't told him that he couldn't listen.

"Dolores," Snape said. Even through a door, Harry could hear the disdain dripping off of every word. Umbridge didn't seem to notice.

"Oh Severus, it's awful! Can you believe what those horrid miscreants have done to me?" she screeched.

Snape's response was cold and calm. "Since it has become somewhat of a tradition for the students to play a prank on any new teacher that walks these halls, I assure you that I can believe it," he drawled.

"What?" Umbridge huffed. "Do you mean to say that you too –"

"Oh no," Snape replied smoothly. "Not myself, of course. As a Potions Master, I am quite capable of detecting any sort of potion that has been mixed into my meals. In fact, I have been able to do just that since my third year as a student. The miscreants, as you call them, have tried, of course, but I have proven to be too much of a challenge."

Harry smiled and had to put his hand in front of his mouth to keep himself from laughing. Way to tell Umbridge that she doesn't know to handle herself.

"Yes, well, as you can see, I am still under the effects of whatever they did to me," Umbridge huffed angrily.

"Clearly," Snape drawled. "I'm certain that it will fade away, in time."

"Can't you brew an antidote for me, Severus?" Umbridge asked, a sort of pleading tone to her voice. "The children won't pay me the proper respect if I show up looking like this!"

"A proper glamour charm shouldn't be beyond your capabilities, should it?" Snape asked callously. "It is, after all, taught in fourth year."

"A glamour charm doesn't work!" Umbridge exclaimed. "Whatever this is, repels those kinds of charms. You're the only one who can help me. Please. I'll… make it worth your while."

The sudden sultry tone of voice Umbridge used was enough to make Harry's skin crawl. And he wasn't the one who had to look at her with her hair coloured in the flaming green properties it had right now. He could only imagine Snape's current disgust.

"I require no such incentives, Dolores," Snape replied coldly. "I will see what I can do, though the potion that has been used is not one that is generally known. I believe this to be the original creation of one of the students. It's quite clever, in fact."

"You listen to me, Severus Snape," Umbridge said, now clearly put out. "Things are about to change here at Hogwarts and I assure you that you'd best prove to me that you're worth your title."

"I will try my best," Snape said, completely undeterred. "Now, if you would kindly return to your own quarters. If I need to brew an antidote for you based on absolutely no information, I should get started right away."

The saccharine tone in Umbridge's voice reappeared as suddenly as it had vanished. "Thank you so much, Severus," she said. "I promise you that I won't forget this."

And then she was gone. The door closed with a click but Harry still didn't come out. Instead, he hurriedly scrambled to his desk to pretend that he had been doing his homework. The door to his room opened with a dull thud.

"Enjoyed the show, did you?" Snape asked.

"I was doing my homework," Harry protested.

"If you're going to attempt to lie to me, you should have at least written a few more lines on your essay," Snape drawled. "Opening your books might have helped as well."

Harry blushed and averted his eyes, knowing he had been caught.

"You got me," he admitted. "But you have to admit that you would have done the same!"

"Ah, but the difference is that you would never have noticed," Snape retorted. Harry had to admit that that was probably true.

"Are you really going to brew her an antidote?" Harry asked as he followed Snape back into the sitting room. "You know she deserves what she got."

"That and much more," Snape agreed. "But I probably should. It wouldn't do for the defence professor to enter her classes looking like that."

Harry frowned. "No offence, Professor," he said. "But how are you going to brew an antidote without knowing what it is for?"

"You will go to the Gryffindor common room," Snape told Harry. "And you will ask those blasted Weasley twins what exactly they fed Professor Umbridge to get that result."

"Why?" Harry asked. "Can't you do it yourself?"

"And have them deny my accusation?" Snape asked. "As it were, I don't often travel to the Gryffindor side of the castle and will not be doing it as a favour for that poor excuse of a woman."

"But I should," Harry stated grumpily.

"Let me put it this way," Snape then said. "If I go up to the Gryffindor tower, this will soon become public knowledge to the entirety of the school. Professor Umbridge will, no doubt, put two and two together and figure out just why I went there on the same night she demanded an antidote of me. Are you seeing where I'm going with this yet?"

"Right," Harry said. "You're… wait, you're protecting the twins?"

Snape snorted. "A defence instructor who can't even defend herself against the prank of a few students is hardly worth that much of my interference. Two students who are able to create a potion with effects such as this one, however useless it may be, are. If you, however, tell them I said as much, you will be writing lines until the year is over. Understood?"

Harry smiled. "Sure," he said. "But what if they don't want to give it to me?"

"Remind them of their second year," Snape said. "They won't hesitate."

Harry smiled. "You always keep something on hand about people, don't you?" he asked.

"It is a most efficient manner of succeeding in life," Snape said. "Now hurry along. I'd best get started if I wish to be done by morning."

When Harry exited the fireplace, he was immediately greeted by his friend.

"Harry!" Hermione said as she looked up from her homework. "Are you free to go already? That's brilliant!"

"Not exactly," Harry replied sheepishly as he dusted his trousers.

_This way, I'll become an expert at floo travel before the year is over._

"I was actually hoping to see the twins," Harry said. "I need something from them."

"They're in their room, I think," Neville told him. Harry started a bit. He hadn't even noticed Neville was sitting in the corner.

"Thanks," he said. "I really need to hurry or Snape will have my hide. Be right down!"

He hurried up to the seventh year dorm room and flung open the door to see Fred and George tossing each other what looked like a miniature bludger. Every time either one caught it, their nose grew just a bit bigger."

"Hiya Harry," Fred said after deftly catching the thing. "Fancy meeting you here."

"We were wondering what took you so long," George said.

"If I knew you were expecting me, I might have come sooner," Harry said as he stepped into the room, careful not to fall for any booby traps. Knowing the twins, there just might be some.

"Who else would Umbridge go to but Snape," Fred said.

"And who else could Snape send here but you?" George pointed out.

"You want the antidote," they declared in unison.

"The recipe is fine," Harry said, ducking away from the mini-bludger as it veered his way. "He'll make the antidote himself."

"And steal all our secrets?" Fred exclaimed in mock-horror. "Not a chance."

"Should I remind you of your second year?" Harry asked as he casually studied his nails.

"Harry!" Fred gasped. "He _told_ you about that? I can't believe him!"

"Slytherins will always be Slytherins," George said warily. "Tell you what. We'll give you the antidote and be done with it. Deal?"

Harry thought about that. It would save Snape from a night of brewing but could he really trust the twins to not follow up with a second prank?

"Is it really the antidote, though?" he asked, voicing his concerns. "If it's anything else, you know I'll be the one to get punished for it."

George leaned over backwards off his bed, his head disappearing behind the frame. A moment later, he came up again with a small vial in hand. "It's the real deal," he said. "On our Weasley honour." He held it out for Harry to take. Harry grabbed it, half-expecting the vial to blow up in his face. But it didn't.

"Good luck down there," Fred said. "And tell the dungeon bat thanks for not ratting us out."

"Even if it's only because he hates Umbridge as well," George added.

"Now go on," Fred said hastily. "There are things here that aren't for your eyes." Fred wiggled his eyebrows and Harry chuckled.

"Alright guys," he said, making his way back to Snape.

In the morning, it became evident that the antidote had done the trick. Umbridge looked like her normal toady self again but had left the bow out of her curly hair this time. She was looking at Snape as if he was her saviour, much to his obvious disgust. Several groans of disappointment could be heard at the Gryffindor table but Fred and George merely shrugged at their admirers, telling them that they were simply no match for Snape's brewing. The wink between them was only obvious if you were looking for it.

* * *

_Please leave me a review if you have the time. Thanks for reading and I'll be back on Friday!_


	26. Chapter 26

_You've all been so kind as to send me a review! Thank you all so much. I'm glad you could appreciate the humour of the situation. As promised, here is the next chapter._

* * *

**Chapter 26**

Harry watched, more than a little peeved, as the memory of him discussing the defence club they were planning on creating played out in vivid detail. The pressing existence of Snape lingered somewhere nearby. Harry looked around, trying to find something that stood out on the lavishly filled dinner table but couldn't find anything that seemed out of place. It didn't help, of course, that the chosen dinner items varied daily so he didn't really have a point of reference to compare the memory to.

And so he had no choice but to find Snape based on his presence alone. And honestly, Harry was struggling with that. The more often they practised occlumency, the more difficult it was to even notice Snape's presence. It was as if he was starting to become… comfortable in Harry's mind. And that unnerved him greatly.

**Remember what I told you. Focus on my presence and find me that way.**

There was a minor spike in Snape's energy and Harry realised that he was helping Harry to try and find him. It did help and he was soon able to determine that Snape was lurking somewhere to his right where Fred and George were speaking adamantly about quidditch.

"I already have a plan for the how," Hermione said as Harry tried to focus. "But I don't know of a good place yet."

Another spike and Harry grimaced as he glanced into the bowl of potatoes.

_Seriously? You're one of these? How am I ever supposed to find you in there!_

**Have you not listened to a word I said? You find my presence, you ludicrous Gryffindor. One of these is not like the others…**

Harry rolled his eyes and focused on the bowl. For a moment, he felt decidedly ridiculous as he tried to gauge the energy levels of a bunch of potatoes but eventually he did notice that one of them exuded an aura that reminded him strongly of a certain potions professor. And, of course, none of the other potatoes had an aura at all.

Remembering what he had had to do the previous time, Harry focused on it, deciding that it didn't belong in the memory at all. He reformed it in his mind, making Snape disappear from it, denying that he had ever existed here in that form. And then it ended.

Harry found himself back on the couch in Snape's quarters, panting a little bit. Snape looked infuriatingly at ease but there was a hint of a smile on his face.

"At last," he said. "That certainly took you long enough but I suppose that you found me eventually."

"Why, that almost sounds like a compliment," Harry replied sardonically. "I hope it didn't hurt you."

"Cheeky brat," Snape growled. "Don't forget that I just saw you planning on sneaking behind my back to… what was it? Teach defence?"

Harry went for the innocent look. "What?" he asked. "I don't know what you're talking about. Looks like potatoes are a bit hard of hearing, aren't they?"

Snape merely quirked an eyebrow and fixed Harry with a stern gaze.

"Fine!" Harry admitted quickly. "But you promised not to use my memories against me so you can't punish me, alright?"

"Did I promise that?" Snape asked evenly, though his expression told Harry that he was enjoying this a bit too much.

"Hey!" Harry exclaimed. "I can always ask Fred and George to feed Umbridge another potion to get her to come down here. Is that what you want?"

"Are you honestly trying to threaten me?" Snape asked, sounding amused. "Because if that's the best you can come up with, I assure you that you have no real leverage."

Harry sighed and laid down on the couch with his hands tucked behind his head. "Fine," he said. "You win again, oh Slytherin overlord. What will it be then? Detention?"

"An assignment," Snape replied. "You are to go all the way up to the seventh floor and find the portrait of Barnabas the Barmy."

Harry frowned. "Okay," he said slowly. "Why?"

"That is for you to find out," Snape said. "I want you to go there and remain for an hour or so. Come back when you're done."

"You want me to linger in a corridor for no good reason?" Harry said, thinking Snape had gone barmy. "If Filch sees me, he'll give me detention for loitering. At least give me my invisibility cloak back, then."

"Absolutely not," Snape replied. "Your cloak will remain with me until further notice, as you well know."

Harry shrugged innocently. "There's no harm in trying. A pass then?"

"Just go, Harry," Snape sighed. "Not many people roam the seventh-floor corridor as it is. You needn't worry, I'm sure."

"Right…" Harry said doubtfully. "I'll just… be off then?"

"One minute," Snape then said. He waved his wand and for a moment, Harry shimmered in a light blue light before turning back to his normal complexion.

"Was that really necessary?" Harry sighed, getting kind of sick of all the protection and alert wards Snape was casting on him lately but no matter what he said, Snape wouldn't relent.

"Quite," the man told him. He then handed Harry his wand and waved open his door. "Remember," he said. "One hour tops. Don't be late."

"Aye aye, sir," Harry said, performing a mock salute before hurrying out the door.

_Snape really has gone barmy, hasn't he?_

With a sigh, Harry went up to the seventh-floor corridor to go and find the portrait Snape had been talking about. It proved to be rather easy. When compared to the other floors, the number of portraits hanging in the seventh-floor corridor was rather sparse. And the one of Barnabas the Barmy (who was apparently trying to teach some trolls how to dance) was very large and imposing. Harry crossed his arms and tapped his foot a bit impatiently as he scrutinised the portrait. He couldn't find anything out of the ordinary… other than the dancing trolls, of course. Barnabas didn't even try and talk to him; He was that busy teaching the steps to a complex sort of waltz.

_What's the point of this? Does Snape want to bore me into submission or something?_

With nothing better to do, Harry started pacing up and down the corridor as his mind went about everywhere. He was annoyed that Snape had managed to pry about the defence club so effortlessly and that it had taken Harry so long to kick him out. He was even more annoyed that Snape had sent him here as part of what appeared to be a very odd punishment, while he had promised not to use anything he saw against Harry.

Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair. With his mind on the club, he started thinking about their problem again. They still needed to find a place to meet. One would think that in a magical castle as large as this one, there would be at least one room that would be appropriate for their meeting, even if they wanted to do so in secret. Maybe they could all go to the shrieking shack but that would mean giving away that secret passageway to a whole lot of people, including some Slytherins.

As he paced, he hardly noticed the change but when he looked at the wall opposite of the portrait as he turned for the umpteenth time, he noticed a door. A door that he absolutely _knew_ was not there just a few minutes ago. And now, there it was!

_A mysterious door in the middle of an enchanted castle. What could possibly go wrong?_

But… this was Hogwarts. And Hogwarts was not inherently dangerous, was it? Okay, so you had the moving staircases and the chamber of secrets that housed a basilisk but this was a door on the seventh floor! Dumbledore had never asked students to stay away from here and with him being the headmaster and all he must've known this was there!

_On the other hand, he does seem to overestimate the resilience of your average wizard._

Harry shook the doubt from his head. Curiosity came in its stead. And before he could rethink it, he opened the door.

The room behind it was ridiculously convenient. It was gargantuan in size. The floor was padded and there were mirrors on the walls that reached from the floor to the ceiling. Training dummies stood on every side of the room and there were targets floating in the air as if waiting to be struck down. There were spell books on defence and even a few dozen duelling robes hanging in a back room that was connected to the main room.

_There is no way this exists. No way!_

Hadn't Dumbledore once said something about a bathroom mysteriously appearing when he urgently needed one? And now Harry urgently needed a room suitable for duelling and it just appeared out of thin air. Just like that! Grinning madly, Harry exited the room and watched as the door disappeared as if it had never been there in the first place.

Harry shook his head.

_That sneaky Slytherin._

He raced back to the dungeons as fast as his feet could carry him.

"I found it!" Harry exclaimed when Snape opened the door for him, hurriedly letting him inside.

"I am certain I know not of what you speak," Snape replied evenly. By now, he was sipping a glass of wine. Something relaxing was playing in the background but Harry didn't recognise it.

Quick to catch on, Harry just smiled. "Of course," he replied. He glanced at the case of the record currently playing and saw it was Chopin.

"Raindrop," Snape said when he noticed Harry looking.

"Ah," Harry walked over to Snape and handed him his wand without issue. He took a seat next to the Potions Master and just listened. Things were really starting to look up.

* * *

Defence Association. That was the title the golden trio had come up with to name their extracurricular defence club. After Harry had shown Ron and Hermione the room that Hermione had identified as the illustrious room of requirement (she had read about it in '_Hogwarts, a History'_), they had been ecstatic about the possibilities. Well, Hermione had been ecstatic. Ron was already planning things from the moment he saw the practice dummies scattered across the room. And Harry had to admit that even he was kind of looking forward to that first lesson.

Hermione had come up with a rather elegant system. Everyone that wanted to take part in the DA would have to sign their name on a list. That list was enchanted to tattle on anyone who would spill the secret of the club. Plus, it would give that person a particularly nasty case of boils. The people that joined were to be given a replica of a galleon that would turn hot in one's pocket after the main galleon was activated to show the date and time of the next meeting. Quite an elegant solution, Harry thought. He was glad that he hadn't been tasked with coming up with it.

Ron and Hermione had agreed to try and treat the Slytherins just like they would anyone else. Ron was already coming up with strategies on how to use the Slytherins in the upcoming war. After all, if they could befriend a few of those cunning snakes and convince them to fight alongside them, they could prove to have access to invaluable information. Not only that, but they too often thought quite strategically. Something that Ron could appreciate.

The group that showed up for the first defence lesson was bigger than Harry had anticipated. Both of the Creevey brothers had signed up and were the first to arrive. Neville, much to Harry's surprise, was eager to participate as well and so was Lavender Brown. Michael Corner from Ravenclaw was a not-too-eager addition and Harry imagined that he was there primarily because Ginny was. There were a few more Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs present that Harry didn't know but one of the Slytherins that showed up, he knew well enough.

"Nott," Harry said as amicably as he could. He extended his hand towards the Slytherin boy and waited patiently for him to shake it.

"Potter," Nott replied evenly, shaking Harry's hand. As far as Slytherins went, this one wasn't too bad. He was more solitary than the others were and didn't seem to be a part of any group or gang that had formed in Slytherin. Sure, he laughed at the occasional mudblood joke, but he never instigated anything.

"Nott," Ron went to stand beside Harry and sized up the Slytherin with a calculating look. "Nice of you to join."

_At least he doesn't sound too appalled._

"Good to be here," Nott replied, smiling thinly. He seemed apprehensive, as if he was not entirely sure if this was a trap or not.

"Who's your friend?" Harry asked. There was one other Slytherin boy standing a bit behind Nott. He seemed to be a year younger and was much more timid than one would expect from a Slytherin.

"This is Tom," Nott said. "Tom Ackerley. He has some trouble in defence and was hoping for some… tutoring. We were told that we were welcome?" His voice was steady and his posture defensive. Harry wondered if Nott still expected to be kicked out at the last moment.

"You heard correctly," Ron said in Harry's stead. "We can use all the ammo we can get, right? With whatever's going on, we should all be prepared."

"Right," Nott said, his dark eyes fluttered towards Ron. "We're all on the same side, right?"

Much to Harry's surprise, Ron extended his hand as well. "Right," Ron replied somewhat uneasily. Nott shook his hand and motioned for Tom to do the same. Harry could not be prouder of his best friend. He clapped him appreciatively on the shoulder before walking over to the middle of the room. The random group of students quieted down and looked at Harry expectantly. Fred and George were giving him the thumbs up from somewhere in the back. Harry felt bolstered by that and smiled. The two Slytherins sat a bit on the side.

"Welcome everyone," Harry said loudly. "I'm glad to see so many of you eager to get ready to fight. Because the truth is that, no matter what the ministry likes to tell itself, Voldemort really is back."

A shudder shook the group collectively but Harry ignored it. They had all best get used to hearing the name, anyways.

"Whatever Umbridge's plan is, I think we can all agree that we're learning nothing from her. I doubt that she's ever seen real combat in her life and she, like the rest of the ministry, ignores any and all problems. She probably believes that everyone who disappeared simply ran away or something."

A murmur sounded when the students started whispering among themselves but a few seconds later they quieted down again.

"I will not pretend that I'm the best this school has to offer," Harry continued. "But I have been in real situations. Life-or-death duels. And I can share my experience with all of you to try and get you to become the best duellers you can be. I know that you all have it in you."

Harry noticed that a few people scoffed and glanced menacingly at the Slytherins. He narrowed his eyes for a moment and took the time to look at each and every one of the students there.

"You will all have noticed that two Slytherins are part of our group," he said. Now everyone turned to look at them but Harry went on. "I'm glad for it!" he said. "I hope that more of them will join us in the future. It is time to put aside this house rivalry of ours. Yes, many of Voldemort's followers came from Slytherin but everyone here should know that traitors have sprouted from every single house. Yes, even Gryffindor. That does not give us the right to exclude a fourth of the student body. I will not have it. And anyone that has a problem with this can leave right now."

Harry paused but when no one got up, he went on.

"That said, I will not tolerate any discrimination based on blood status in this room. As soon as you start that kind of nonsense, I will end our agreement."

Harry looked at everyone when he said this but they all knew who this comment was meant for. Nott and Ackerley both nodded.

"Good," Harry said. "I think I've said more than enough. If you have any questions, please ask them at the end of the lesson and, of course, you all know to keep the DA and this location a secret, right? Especially from Umbridge."

There was some collective nodding.

"On your feet then," Harry said. "And pair up. Preferably with someone not in your house. We will begin with the basics, today. If I learned anything, it is that a good disarming spell can save your life. A shield charm, of course, is equally invaluable. We will practice both today."

Harry could never have guessed just how much he would enjoy teaching other people the things he was good at. He hadn't even realised how easy it was for him to put his advice into words and help people to learn the spells he had mastered long ago. He actually really enjoyed this. Quite frankly, it had been a long time since he genuinely smiled this widely.

Hermione and Ron were helping Harry to correct people and, surprisingly, Nott took her advice without a problem. And he became better for it, disarming Luna Lovegood not too much later. It surprised Harry how many of the students didn't have a good grasp of even the disarming spell, including Neville, but this knowledge bolstered him, even more, to really try and teach his peers. After all, he _knew_ for a fact that they would need these skills in time.

"Expelliarmus!" Harry dodged Corner's wand that Ginny had just knocked out of his hand and smiled broadly. "Well done, Ginny!" he praised. "Now help Corner, if you will."

The two hours they had slotted were over much quicker than Harry would have liked. By the end of it, even Neville had been able to disarm his opponent at least once, though Harry knew he would require a lot more practice.

"Great lesson, Harry," Fred and George said before they left the room. "We're looking forward to the next one."

"Harry, can I take some pictures of our group?!" Collin asked. "You know, as a keepsake."

"Maybe at the end of the year, Collin," Harry said. It was better if there wasn't too much evidence of their get-together.

"This was great, Potter," Corner said. "But do we really need to include the Slytherins? That's dangerous if you ask me."

"It's a risk I'm willing to take," Harry said sternly. "You should make up for yourself if you want to do the same. If not, I won't hold it against you if you won't come back next time."

"He'll come back," Ginny suddenly appeared next to them and swatted Corner lightly on the back of his head. "Won't you?"

Corner scoffed and stalked off as well. Ginny rolled her eyes at Harry and went after him. Eventually, only the Slytherins were left and Ron stood protectively close to Harry when they approached. Harry wondered if he thought he was being subtle but he did appreciate the effort. Hermione was gathering the defence books and checking the list everyone signed.

"That was a surprisingly good effort, Potter," Nott said appreciatively.

"Glad you liked it," Harry said evenly. "Will we see you next time?"

"That's what we were going to ask you," Nott replied. "Not everyone seems to agree to us being here."

"Don't mind them," Harry said. "They'll come around eventually. If you want to come back, you can."

"Just don't tell anyone that has no business knowing," Ron warned. "You know what will happen if you do."

"No need to threaten us," Nott said lightly. "We want this club to exist as much as the others. Don't we, Tom?"

Tom glanced sideways at Nott before responding quietly. "Yeah." From a person from any other house, Harry would have thought that behaviour to be born of shyness but in this case, he wasn't sure.

_Damn, it's harder than I thought, getting rid of my bias against Slytherin._

But Harry was sure well going to try. He smiled as, kindly as he could muster. "Well, I'll see you two next time, then. Good work today."

Nott nodded and made off with Ackerley in tow. Harry watched them leave and hoped that they wouldn't let him down. If they did, he'd probably not be able to convince his friends a second time.

"I think that went rather well," Harry said carefully when he was alone with Ron and Hermione.

Ron grinned broadly. "Rather well? Harry, that was phenomenal! Best defence lesson I've ever had and Fred and George said the same thing."

"Oh, absolutely," Hermione added. "I must admit that I learned a thing or two today. And you have such a clear way of explaining things. It's really quite wonderful. At this rate, everyone who's in here will definitely get their O.W.L. in Defence."

"Except those who have already sat through those," Ron pointed out.

Hermione huffed. "Yes, obviously. My point is, Harry, that you did great!"

"Thanks," Harry said. "Now we just have to hope that no one mentions this."

"If they do, they'll know exactly who they'll have to answer to," Ron said knowingly. "There's no way that they wouldn't be scared of what you can do after today."

Harry grit his teeth and quickly averted his gaze.

"Harry," Hermione said soothingly. "You're not still worried about those disappearances, are you?"

"Tell me I'm wrong to be," Harry snarled. "Tell me there's absolutely no chance of me being behind them."

"Ron crossed his arms. "You said it yourself. Even Dumbledore doesn't think that you're doing this."

"Dumbledore is not infallible," Harry growled.

Hermione sighed. "Professor Snape then," she argued. "He wouldn't say these things to make you feel better."

"No," Harry agreed. "But the truth is that I won't be sure unless there's proof. And so far, there are no other likely culprits."

Ron and Hermione exchanged a glance but didn't press the issue further. There was no point, anyway. There would need to be more proof of things before the truth could become clearer. And for that, something would have to happen. Unfortunately for Harry, that opportunity would arise sooner rather than later.

* * *

At breakfast, Hedwig was one of the first owls in. She swooped down immediately to deliver a letter to Harry, no doubt written by his godfather. She had just barely taken off after stealing one of Harry's bacon strips when a barn owl landed in the middle of the table with a brown package clutched in its talons. It held out a piece of parchment that looked like an order receipt to Harry and he accepted it with a grin.

"Finally!" he exclaimed. He signed his name on the dotted line and handed the parchment back to the owl who took off immediately, leaving the parcel behind.

Ron was the first to start poking the square package. "So, what's this then?" he asked. "It's too small to be a new broom." He lifted it and shook it. "Too light as well."

"It's… ah, a bit of a joke, really," Harry said as he snatched the parcel back. "Nothing you would understand."

Ron shrugged and went back to his food. Grateful that his best friend was not about to keep on prying, Harry opened the letter Hedwig had brought him. It was indeed written by Sirius.

_Dear Harry,_

_What do you mean, Snape is watching you closely? Do you really think that's the safest bet, here? Listen, Snivellus used to be a death eater and I firmly believe that you can't come back from that. I don't trust that git for one moment and would hope you have the sense to stay away as well. I'll talk to Dumbledore for you. This is absurd! If You-know-who is sending you visions, it's probably because Snivellus has been rummaging around in your mind._

Harry's lip twitched in anger. He knew that his godfather didn't exactly like Snape but the feeling was entirely mutual and Snape had never been this blatantly cruel about Sirius. Harry did not like the paranoia oozing from the parchment. The Occlumency lessons had begun after the visions, for crying out loud!

_It's good of you to want to start a defence club. From what I hear about your newest professor, you won't be learning a whole lot from her. I'm sure your friends can learn a lot from you and it's fantastic that you're using your experience for the better. James would have been proud of you. Of that, I have no doubt._

_I'll be looking forward to watching you play quidditch again. Keep a lookout for a black dog! It'll be happy to see you, I'm sure._

_Remember what I said. Be careful around Snape. Who knows what it'll take for him to turn on us again. I'm worried about you, Harry._

_I'll be waiting for your next letter._

_Padfoot._

Harry glanced at the high table. Snape was sipping pumpkin juice while Umbridge was talking to him. Snape seemed to be ignoring her to the best of his abilities but she didn't stop chatting. Harry knew that there was bad blood between Snape and Sirius. It was clear every time the two men saw each other. But this kind of venom, Harry did not expect. Sirius obviously didn't trust Snape. But Harry did. And he felt sort of bad to be disagreeing with his godfather. Spending twelve years in Azkaban had not exactly matured him and it was clear that he was unable to leave his past where it belonged. Behind him.

"Bad news?" Hermione asked.

Harry blinked. "No," he said quickly. "Why do you think so?"

"Because you don't look too happy," Hermione pointed out.

Harry sighed. "Sometimes, Sirius seems more childish than your average third year," he said. "He's just ranting a little. That's all."

"Ah," Hermione said knowingly. "About Professor Snape?"

_How does she always know everything?!_

"A little bit, yeah," Harry admitted.

"I'm sure it'll be alright," Hermione said. "The moment he realises just what Professor Snape has been doing for you, he'll come around."

Harry sighed. "I hope so. But for now, it's probably for the best if he doesn't know where I'm spending the night."

Hermione chuckled. "No," she agreed. "Probably not. So, are you going to tell me what's in the package?"

Harry grinned at her and pulled the package onto his lap. "Just a peek," he whispered. "But don't tell anyone."

He opened the box a little for Hermione to look inside. She immediately giggled in delight. "Aaaw, they're so precious!" she whispered loudly.

Harry shushed her. "Don't mention it," he said. "To anyone. I might not live to see another day if you do."

Hermione grinned mischievously. "I won't," she said. "Most people wouldn't get it anyways."

Harry winked. "Yeah. Most people."

* * *

When Harry found himself in Snape's quarters again, bravely brandishing his quill to write dreadfully long sentences just to get a sufficient length on his subject, he felt that something was off. Snape kept glancing at him and much less subtly than he would normally do.

_Maybe it's because he can see me butchering my Potions essay._

Snape scoffed and Harry looked at him in question. "What?" he asked. "Is the scratching of my quill too loud or something?"

It had been a while since Harry did his homework in his assigned room. He much preferred writing his essays while in someone's company. Even if that someone was Severus Snape. And, truth be told, Snape was actually nice company when inside the privacy of his quarters. Occasionally, he would even give Harry hints on what to add in his essays.

_But would he tell me where to find the properties of the medusa stone if I asked?_

Harry didn't think so. Snape rarely offered his help on his potions essays. Something about an unfair advantage which seemed preposterous when you took into account just how biased the man was.

Snape suddenly got up and pulled a book from one of his shelves. He handed it to Harry without a word. All he did was stare at him with a strange glint in his eyes. One of curiosity, Harry thought.

Harry accepted the book. "Er… thanks," he said carefully. When looking closer, he saw that it was a book on potions ingredients. The rare kind. Harry furrowed his brow in confusion and looked at Snape again.

_Okay, this is becoming odd._

Snape stared at him for a moment more before pouring himself a glass of fire whiskey. "Harry," he said. "I believe that there is something we must discuss."

Harry groaned. "Again?" he asked. "I'm doing my homework right now. You, of all people, would want this essay to be finished, wouldn't you?"

"While your academic priorities are commendable, I feel that this cannot wait," Snape replied icily. "Not any longer."

Harry set his quill aside on a spare bit of parchment so the tip wouldn't dirty anything and sat up straight. "Alright," he said. "What did you want to talk about?"

"Occlumency," Snape said simply.

Harry frowned. "You're going to have to give me a bit more than that."

"Let me specify, then," Snape said gruffly. "We need to discuss the obvious link between our two psyches."

"Obvious link?" Harry echoed. "I… er… don't really know what you mean."

Snape scratched his cheek lazily and fixed Harry with that typical scrutinising stare of his. "I will explain," he said. "Lately, it has come to my attention that I can, on occasion, hear your thoughts."

Harry just stared at him.

Snape nodded at the book he had just provided. "Look at page ninety-eight," he said.

Harry carefully opened the book to the correct page and gaped at the subject. "Medusa stones," he said softly.

_Oh no! Has he been able to hear all of my thoughts? For how long now? What does he know?_

"Calm yourself," Snape said. "It hasn't happened often yet. In total, I believe that I have been able to discern five or six thoughts. None of them was consequential in any way."

"You said the cognizance trace was _not_ going to allow you to read my mind!" Harry exclaimed.

"No," Snape acknowledged. "And it doesn't. I believe, though admittedly this is a new phenomenon to me as well, that it is the culmination of numerous factors that have allowed for this to happen. One of which is, admittedly, the trace and another would be our Occlumency lessons. I can only imagine what other factors have influenced our minds like this."

"You said this was because of a connection between our psyches!" Harry said, still feeling everything but calm. "How come I can't hear _your_ thoughts?"

"That's because I'm a master Occlumens," Snape said. "My shields are up all the time. Thoughts are as much able to leave those shields as other minds are able to enter them. If I wanted to, I am certain that I could allow a thought to come through for you to pick up."

Harry wasn't sure how to feel about that. "Could you try it?" he asked.

Snape rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair. "You require proof?" he asked, sounding slightly offended.

"Call it curiosity," Harry said, trying to placate the man.

**Very well. Is this what you had in mind?**

Harry stared, completely shocked at Snape. His lips hadn't moved and unless he had suddenly picked up the hobby of being a ventriloquist, he was telling the truth.

"No way!" Harry gaped.

"I believe this is only possible over short distances, as of yet," Snape said. "Much like my surprise Legilimency attacks would be. But it can be developed and most likely will be as you continue to make progress."

"Then you'll be able to hear more and more of my thoughts!" Harry exclaimed.

"And eventually, you'll also be able to block them from me," Snape explained. "Much as I am doing right now."

Harry frowned and looked at his hands. He had been warned about the possibility of a closer connection but he had never expected _this_ to happen. The fact that Snape could hear his thoughts was terrifying! In some ways even more so than it was having Voldemort send him visions. Who knows what secrets the man already heard. On the other hand, he had helped Harry in the progression of the DA. And he was extremely good at keeping secrets. In reality, there was probably nothing he could do about this. Now he had another reason to get better at Occlumency.

Harry smiled wryly. "I don't suppose you could slip me some exam answers this way?" he asked.

Snape snorted. "I could," he said. "But they wouldn't necessarily be the correct ones."

* * *

_A lot of important things happening in this chapter, I'd say. Please let me know what you thought and I wish you all a very pleasant weekend. _


	27. Chapter 27

_It's time for another update! Thanks for all your lovely reviews. Please enjoy this next chapter!_

* * *

**Chapter 27**

Harry was sitting in a chair fit for kings in a lavishly large dining room. One of Lucius' pathetic house-elves had just brought him a new cup of tea when Severus entered the room. Harry smirked. It was nice to occasionally see the servants that were not as pitiful and dim-witted as Wormtail was. And only speaking with someone as pompous as Lucius was becoming tiring rather quickly. So much so, in fact, that he occasionally had to seek some other form of entertainment.

"My Lord," Severus said as he fell to one knee. His head was bowed respectfully but he still exuded strength. Harry liked that.

"Severus," Harry purred. "Rise, my old friend and join me. Lucius has provided us with a wonderful tart to enjoy. Won't you have some?"

"It would be my honour, my Lord," Severus said, his tone remarkably humble. Harry snapped his fingers and immediately, a wonderful spread appeared on the large dinner table. Being in that forest for so long had deprived Harry of the most basic of luxuries and he was eager to catch up.

"Tell me, Severus," Harry said, his tone pleasant. "How are things at Hogwarts at the moment?"

"Chaotic," Severus said. He waited carefully until Harry had served himself and then took a very meagre slice of the tart. "Six students have disappeared by now and the others are starting to panic."

"Is that so?" Harry said casually. "How very unfortunate." A moment of silence passed and Harry couldn't help but be impressed with Severus' stoic posture. Surely, he desperately wanted to know more.

"Ask your question, Severus," Harry said, ever the merciful one.

"My Lord," Severus replied in respectful acknowledgement. "I can't help but wonder what it is that you know of these disappearances."

Harry smirked. "I know everything there is to know about them, my loyal servant," Harry said, casually reminding Severus of his place. "Unfortunately for you, I don't yet have a reason to inform you."

"Of course, my Lord," Severus replied easily. "It is not my place."

"But I did summon you here for a purpose," Harry then said. Hmm, the tart truly was excellent, today. Severus had barely touched his own slice.

"My Lord?" Severus asked, the eagerness to be of assistance exuding from every word. That pleased Harry.

"I need you to develop a potion for me, Severus," Harry then said. "And I need it within a couple of months."

Severus listened attentively as Harry explained what he needed. "This potion would need to provide all the necessary nutrients to the drinker as well as keep them from falling asleep for as long as possible. It would also need to strengthen their resolve and numb their emotions.

Harry detected a fluttering panic on Severus' face. "My Lord," he spoke. "That is a lot for one potion to do. I 'm not certain that I'll be able to create something so versatile."

Harry grinned widely and was pleased to see Severus shrink back. "You will do this for me," he said coldly. "I know for a fact that you will not fail me. After all –" He picked up his glass of wine and slowly stirred the contents. "If you do, the consequences will be most… unpleasant."

Severus hurriedly bowed his head, his hair falling into his face as he did so. His hands trembled visibly and Harry licked his lips in appreciation.

"As my Lord commands," Severus finally said.

"Wonderful!" Harry exclaimed, clapping his hands together loudly. "Now, would you care to join me for the remainder of dinner, Severus? Or would you rather return to that doddering old fool?"

Harry watched Severus' infuriatingly collected expression for the inner turmoil he knew must be there. It was fun to play with his servants just to see what they would do. He knew all too well that Severus did not want to dine with him but, on the other hand, it would be very difficult for him to refuse. Calmly, he ate another forkful of the tart.

"Thank you for the invitation, my Lord," Severus then said. "I humbly accept."

"Marvellous," Harry said easily. "I've been looking forward to speaking with you of more casual things. Tell me, how is your godson doing nowadays?"

* * *

Harry woke up with a headache so fierce that he could hardly hear a thing but the numbing sound of blood rushing in his ears. Instinctively, he pressed a hand against his forehead to try and lessen the pain but he got no such relief. There was no blood this time.

_Snape!_

Harry tossed back his blankets and jumped out of bed, ignoring the black spots dancing in his vision telling him he got up too fast. He rushed into the sitting room but there was no one there. The fire in the hearth was extinguished and the stones beneath Harry's feet were cold as ice. But of course, he wouldn't be here! He would be in bed right now, wouldn't he?

For a moment, Harry hesitated. Snape's bedroom was off-limits, he knew. But surely, he wouldn't fault Harry for finding him after a vision? Especially one such as this? No, if anything, Snape would be angry if Harry waited until morning. Bolstered by that last thought, Harry marched to Snape's bedroom door and knocked as loudly as he could.

As expected, no one answered the door.

"Damn it, Snape," Harry hissed. He knocked again only to be met with the expected silence. Throwing caution to the wind and embracing his Gryffindor courage, Harry opened the door. He was surprised that the doorknob obeyed so willingly. A part of him had expected a ward or trap of some kind and yet, there were none.

Without his wand, Harry couldn't exactly cast a Lumos to see properly. His eyes were sort of used to the darkness but it was still hard to make out anything in the darkened room. "Professor?" he asked softly as he took a step forward. He was over the threshold now and yet there was no response.

"Professor," Harry said, a bit louder now. "If you're here I really need you to answer me right now."

And yet, there was only the sound of his own breaths.

A small sense of panic came over Harry's heart. Of course, he knew that Snape had to go and see Voldemort at times. He had been aware of that for a while now. And hell, nothing had even happened in his vision. Snape had not been tortured or made out to be a traitor. Nothing of the sort! And yet, knowing that he was still there at that very moment was enough to make his heart beat nearly twice as fast.

Still hoping against hope that Snape was simply sleeping soundly, Harry rushed towards the outline of what had to be a bed. As soon as he reached it, he tugged wildly at the sheets on top. He was met with no resistance. Still not satisfied, Harry started patting the mattress until he reached the pillows. There was no one there.

"Damn it," Harry muttered under his breath. What was he supposed to do now? Floo call Dumbledore and tell him what was going on? No, that was stupid. There was no way that Dumbledore didn't already know what was happening. He's the one that sent Snape to these meetings.

His worry now ensconced by anger with Dumbledore, Harry stomped out of Snape's bedroom and slammed the door shut. He sat down heavily in the couch facing the fire and waited. There was no way that he was going to be able to go to sleep now. Not when he knew that Snape was sitting with his worst enemy right now and that any moment, that enemy could decide that Snape was not useful enough anymore and would best be off dead. Okay, so that was very unlikely to happen, but still… Voldemort had already taken away so much from him. It would only be logical if Snape was next.

Harry frowned at himself. Did he really feel that way? When had Snape become someone that he'd rather not see taken away from him? Since when did he worry when Snape was summoned by Voldemort? He knew the truth. It was staring right at him like a snake, carefully gauging him as he approached. He had come to care for the man. Snape had become a stable adult in his life that he didn't want to part with. Despite his dark wit and cutting sarcasm, Snape had become someone that Harry could trust. And not only with his life, no, Snape had become an anchor. And just the possibility of losing that anchor was worrying Harry tremendously. He wished he could talk to someone, anyone about this but there was no one. Hermione and Ron didn't know enough about what happened to understand him and besides, they were fully asleep right now anyway. Dumbledore… well, Harry still wasn't sure what to make of the man. In any case, it was clear that Dumbledore didn't want to have much to do with Harry at the moment and so he stayed away.

Harry pulled up his knees and sagged heavily against the comfortable couch supporting his back. There was nothing for it. He would just have to wait and hope. Hope was something that he, until very recently, thought to be dangerous. But now, it was the best thing he had.

* * *

It was only when someone shook his shoulder that Harry realised he had fallen asleep. When his memories came flooding back he sat up straight faster than he could open his eyes. "Snape!" he exclaimed. When the black figure of his potions professor came into view through the glasses that sat askew on his nose, he couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief. Snape was still wearing his death eater robes and clutching a white mask that could remind one of nothing but the horrors it had seen.

"Harry," Snape said. His voice was strong and calm. "What are you doing here?" The man acted no different than he would if he had just come from a meeting with Dumbledore. His confident posture calmed Harry somewhat, despite the robes he was currently sporting.

"I saw," Harry said, his voice still cracked with sleep. "I saw part of your meeting. I was worried."

Snape frowned and sat down next to Harry's feet. "How much did you see?" he asked urgently. "What did you see?"

Harry searched his brain, trying to wade through the fog of sleep that hindered his path. But then it came back to him like the sunlight seeping through the mist. "You have to make a potion," he said. "A difficult one, according to you. And he wants it, soon."

Snape nodded gravely. "Your visions appear to be able to show the truth, after all," he said. "What more did you see?"

"I woke up after you told him you'd stay for a while longer," Harry said. "I didn't know if what I saw was real! I panicked and I… I went into your bedroom. I'm sorry!"

Snape put a calming hand on Harry's shoulder when he tried to get up. "It's alright," he said. "I'm not angry with you. These circumstances are unusual and I would want you to come and get me when you have a vision. That is, after all, one of the reasons you're here."

"Supposedly," Harry said softly.

"No," Snape replied. "Truthfully as well." Snape removed his hand and sighed. "You didn't have to wait for me here. Surely you are uncomfortable."

"I didn't mean to fall back asleep," Harry said. "I thought you'd be back right away. What took you so long, anyway?"

"I had to report to the headmaster," Snape explained. "A conversation with that man is never short or easy, as I'm sure you realise." A ghost of a smile broke Snape's tired expression, if only for a moment. He then regarded Harry with a calculating gaze. "I apologise if you were… worried."

Harry picked up on the rare uncertainty in Snape's voice and felt his face heat in embarrassment. He crossed his arms automatically which only served to make him feel like a petulant child. "Of course, I was," he snarled. "You're –"

_Important to me._

From Snape's sudden startled expression, Harry knew that he had heard his unspoken words. The man cleared his throat and got up. Somehow, it was soothing to see that Snape was almost as embarrassed as Harry was. So the dungeon bat was human, after all.

"Yes, well, I appreciate your concern," Snape said uneasily. "But you needn't worry about my wellbeing. I can take care of myself. The Dark Lord did nothing but make me eat some of the sweets he knows I loathe."

Harry chuckled indulgently at the awkward attempt at humour. "You should've brought me a slice," he said. "I love treacle tart."

Snape snorted. "This early in the morning? I think not. Now, do you require anything? A headache reliever, perhaps?"

Harry shook his head. "No, my headache's all gone, already."

"Very well," Snape replied. "Then it's back to sleep for you. In your bed, if you will."

"Do you still have to be somewhere?" Harry asked.

Snape shook his head. "No, I'll be going straight to bed myself," he said. "Should you need me, you may… knock on my door. Will that be satisfactory?"

This time, Harry snorted. "Yeah," he said. "It will be… satisfactory. Good night, Professor."

"Good night, Harry."

* * *

The mornings after these visions, Harry always felt bone-tired. It was as if the time he spent looking through Voldemort's eyes did not count as sleep for his own body. Not only that, but he would always wake up in such a panic that he was unable to sleep for quite a while. Even if he had fallen asleep again, the previous day, that same tiredness had taken hostage of his body once more. He had been poking holes in his omelette for five minutes straight when he noticed the whispers.

"- Never in the tower when it happens –"

" – No Gryffindors yet –"

" – Looks absolutely horrible."

"Harry!" Harry looked up at Hermione who looked as if she had been trying to get his attention for a while now.

"What?" Harry asked, trying his best to keep the annoyance out of his voice. It wasn't Hermione's fault that he was pulled into Voldemort's mind every now and then.

"Eat," Hermione ordered before pointing at Harry's plate. "You haven't taken a single bite yet."

Harry groaned. "I'm not hungry," he complained.

" – Heard he had problems with Crabbe and Goyle before."

" – Saw him in the corridors when he just went… blank."

" – Turning dark –"

" – The ministry –"

In a surge of anger, Harry slammed his hand down on the table and got up as his chair scratched the floor. "What are you all whispering about?!" he exclaimed loudly. His cup of pumpkin juice fell over and tumbled to the ground. Within seconds, every table had gone as quiet as they would have had Dumbledore called them to attention.

Ron tugged at his sleeve. "Harry," he whispered. "Mate, sit back down. Come on…"

Harry's fierce glare swept across the great hall. People from nearly every house were looking at him in horror. There was fear evident in a lot of their gazes while others exuded some morbid fascination. There were people – like Neville – that looked at him kindly but those were few and far between.

"Harry," Ron urged again.

Harry grunted and tugged his sleeve away from his best friend. "Sorry, Ron," he said. "I suddenly lost my appetite." He grabbed his bag and rushed out of the great hall, past the educational decrees and away from all those staring gazes.

He knew that there were rumours. How couldn't there be? He knew that people had noticed that he was never to be found when people disappeared, even before he spent his nights in Snape's quarters. People weren't stupid. They put two and two together as easily as Harry had done. As always, they were looking for a scapegoat. And, as always, Harry was the most likely target. He stomped his way over to the defence class, certain that Umbridge was still in the great hall and slid down against the wall to wait. His stomach growled in protest but Harry ignored it. Food was the last thing on his mind right now. His housemates probably didn't want to eat with him anyway.

"Harry!"

Harry sighed when he recognised Hermione's frantic voice. Two pairs of footsteps made their way towards him in a hasty pattern and Harry looked up to see his two best friends hurrying up to him.

"How long has this been going on?" Harry asked immediately. "How long have they been suspecting me?"

Ron sat down next to Harry and handed him a roll he nicked from the great hall. "Since the last disappearances," he said calmly. "Some girls say they saw you that day. They claim that you suddenly became rigid and cold and wouldn't say anything to anyone, even when spoken to."

"They don't know what they saw," Hermione said, her hands on her hips. "But they need someone to blame."

"What else is new?" Harry sighed. "I can't believe I didn't hear them until now."

"They're becoming less subtle by the hour," Ron growled. "It's as if they don't care that you can hear them, anymore."

"Is there any reason in particular why you didn't tell me about this?" Harry asked.

Again, Ron and Hermione exchanged a glance. They'd been doing that a lot lately and it was really starting to bug Harry. "Stop looking at each other like that!" he said. "I'm not blind. I can see that you're scared. I can see that you're keeping things from me."

"No!" Hermione denied immediately. "We're not. If we seem scared, it's because we're scared for you."

"Yeah," Ron added. "And we're not the ones keeping things from our friend, mate."

Harry huffed. "What is _that_ supposed to mean?" He held the roll loosely in his hands, already forgetting that it was there.

"We know you, Harry," Hermione said. "You haven't been right since the year started. And we want to give you space –"

"So give me space!" Harry interjected.

"But we're afraid that you'll hurt yourself," Ron whispered from next to him. Harry's eyes widened as he took in Ron's defeated expression.

"What?" he asked, the fight gone from his voice. "Why would you – what makes you think I would?"

Ron made some annoyed gesture with his hand. "I don't know," he admitted. "We think the chance is small but… not small enough. That's why we didn't tell you. We didn't want to pile onto your problems."

Harry swallowed thickly. Was this it? Was he supposed to come clean to his friends just like that? They gave him the perfect opening and it would likely never become as easy as right then. He regarded his friends solemnly. They did seem worried. Agonisingly so. Harry licked his lips.

_No time like the present._

" – wrong feathers! My cauldron never stood a chance."

Students were starting to enter the corridor to go to their respective classes. Many of them glanced at Harry in passing but none of them spoke to him. Harry looked at Ron again, who smiled and pointed at the roll. "Eat that," the boy said. "If your stomach growls in class, Umbridge might give you another detention.

Harry chuckled wryly. "Yeah, you're probably right," he admitted and went on to devour the roll in four large bites, much to Hermione's disgust. He did his best to ignore the queasy feeling that came from knowing he almost told his friends about his problems. But the moment had passed.

"Settle down, settle down."

The horrible sound of Umbridge's voice made Harry grit his teeth. The woman disgusted him. The way she clung to Snape as if the man would ever be interested in her; the punishments she had set for Harry in the past and the way she would not believe the truth, no matter what, irked him greatly. She opened the door and everyone walked in, careful not to fall out of line.

The lesson was the same as it always was. A boring hour filled with nothing but the mindless copying of a text. Nobody spoke and everyone simply dutifully wrote their line as time went on and Umbridge silently kept watch, sipping tea like some sort of warden content to see her prisoners perform as they should. Harry couldn't help but feel some satisfaction at the thought that there were some people getting a proper defence training, no matter what Umbridge said. And those people knew the truth about Voldemort just as much as he did. He could only hope that, as time passed, others would join his group.

But… with those rumours going around about him becoming some sort of dark wizard, it didn't seem likely. Harry stifled a yawn as he tried to focus on the technical limitations of the various shield charms. This was all stuff he already knew. A glance at Hermione showed that she was equally annoyed by the content she was probably able to recite by heart but she dutifully kept writing.

The scratching of the quills and the occasional clink of an inkwell was sort of hypnotising to Harry. His mind was starting to drift off and he didn't even notice that he had stopped writing altogether. He was tired and didn't want anything more than to just hurry back to his bed and sleep the day away…

"Mr Potter!"

Harry opened his eyes, vaguely wondering when he had closed them. He glanced up only to look into the scandalised face of Umbridge. His face had been resting on his palm and he noticed that there was some drool stuck in the corner of his mouth. His tongue tasted like sleep. How long had he been out?

"I'm sorry, Professor," Harry said hurriedly. "I didn't mean to… er…"

"You fell asleep, Mr Potter," Umbridge said sternly. "Are my lessons not interesting enough for you, hm? Could it be that you believe yourself to already know all of the subject matter?"

Harry desperately wanted to say yes but knew better by now. "I'm sorry," he said again. "I just had a rough night."

Umbridge narrowed her eyes. "Is that so?" she asked dangerously. "Is there any reason in particular as to why that is?"

There was no way in hell that Harry was going to explain to this hag that he suffered from the occasional vision from Voldemort or that he had been worried about Snape being summoned by him.

"Just nightmares, Professor," Harry mumbled. He refused to look away. That would only show weakness.

Umbridge huffed. "What could a boy of your age possibly have nightmares about?" she asked sceptically. "Lying again, are we? Perhaps you indulged yourself in some fire whiskey or some kind of muggle drug. That's it, isn't it?"

"What? No!" Harry exclaimed.

"Lower your voice, Mr Potter," Umbridge said silkily. "Whatever the case, you will sit in detention with me tonight. For your abysmal behaviour in my class."

"But, Professor!" Hermione now said. "He really does have nightmares. He's not lying."

"You will speak only when spoken to," Umbridge snapped. "Or do you desire detention as well, Ms Granger?"

Harry subtly shook his head at her. It wasn't worth it. Hermione lowered her head and muttered an apology. Umbridge smirked and turned back to Harry.

"Straight after dinner," she told him. "And not a moment later."

"Yes, Professor," Harry said sullenly. He was trying to uphold an outward appearance of calm but inside, he was panicking. He still vividly remembered the last detention he had with that vile excuse for a woman and had done everything he could to try and not get any more detentions from her. His injuries had only barely managed to heal. This wasn't even his fault but he couldn't very well tell her to talk to Snape as proof that he hadn't slept well. That would not be a conversation that would go well… for anyone.

_Ugh. Why do so many things have to happen at once?_

* * *

The rest of the day hadn't gone any better for Harry. He was tired all the time and could barely keep his mind where it should be. Thankfully, none of the other teachers had used his drowsiness as an excuse to give him detention. When dinner was about over, he tried to signal Snape.

_I have detention._

Snape didn't react. Harry frowned and stared in his direction but the man was talking with Dumbledore. He tried again.

_I have detention with Umbridge after dinner._

Still no response. Harry huffed in annoyance. What good was this link if he wasn't able to use it willingly?

"Er, Harry?" Ron waved a hand in front of his face to try and get his attention.

"Hm?"

"Why are you staring at Snape like that?" Ron asked.

Harry looked at Ron and sighed. "Someone has to tell him that I have a detention tonight," he explained. "But I'm not about to go and tell him that in plain view of… everyone. And that includes Umbridge."

"Right," Ron said. "Do you want me to tell him after dinner?"

Harry nearly choked on his pumpkin juice. "You'd do that?" he asked.

Ron shrugged. "Sure," he said. "Even Snape will probably not bite my head off for telling him something he wants to know. I know he's been alright to you."

Harry chuckled. "And you think that treatment will extend to you?"

"It better!" Ron said, smiling widely. Then he turned more serious. "Honestly, Don't worry about it. And if Umbridge gives you too hard a time, just tell Snape, alright?"

"Yeah," Harry said, shifting uncomfortably. "I'll do that."

"Umbridge is getting up," Hermione hissed. "You'd better go, Harry."

Harry sighed and got up from his seat. "Alright. Thanks, guys."

Harry followed right behind Umbridge to her office. As he passed Snape, they locked eyes for just a moment but Harry quickly looked away out of fear that Snape would detect his apprehension. Ron and Hermione would take care of it. In the meantime, he only had Umbridge to worry about.

Even though she was walking only a few paces in front of him, Umbridge did not acknowledge Harry in any way. She stuck to her brisk pace and Harry did his best to keep up with her. When they arrived at her office, Umbridge opened the door and allowed Harry to go in before closing the door behind them and locking it for good measure. It was not a good sign.

"Welcome back, Mr Potter," Umbridge said sweetly. "Your former injuries have healed well, I hope?"

Harry just stared at her. After a moment of silence, Umbridge clicked her tongue. "My, but we are rude, aren't we? Have you learned nothing from our previous… encounters?"

_Only that you're a sadistic dragon-lady._

Oops. Harry better keep his stray thoughts in check lest one of them reach Snape and arouse suspicion. "I'm trying my best to live by your high standards, Professor," Harry said, trying his very best to make his tone come across as unironic.

"And yet, here we are," Umbridge said sadly.

Harry didn't say anything in response. He didn't want to give the woman even more fuel and was, for now, content to just watch things unfold. He glanced around and noticed that there weren't any desks standing in the middle of the room. They were all shoved aside. There was no sign of that despicable blood quill either. Harry frowned and was startled to see a malicious grin growing on Umbridge's face when he looked back at her.

"Looking for something, Mr Potter?" she asked, a dangerous undertone to her voice

Harry did his best to appear calm. He built up his Occlumency walls. It would help to control his impulsive reactions and might make it so that Snape couldn't hear his thoughts. "No, Professor," he replied while he focused on endless glaciers and fresh snow.

Umbridge started pacing with her hands behind her back. "There are rumours going around," she said evenly. "They speak of you becoming a dark wizard. Is it true that you've abducted those poor students who've done you no wrong?"

Harry did his best to keep his anger down. "No," he replied as calmly as he could. "I had nothing to do with that."

"Are you quite sure?" Umbridge asked sweetly. "You don't sound convinced, yourself."

"I'm not a dark wizard," Harry hissed.

"You know," Umbridge purred. "I'm starting to believe that Mr Diggory's death was not an accident at all."

Harry looked at her with wide eyes. What was she saying?

"All things considered, I believe that the possibility of you killing him is rather strong." Her cold gaze fell on Harry again. Her smile was gone now and her expression showed nothing but contempt. "You-know-who has not returned but you want him to, don't you? So what better way to scare people into submission than performing dark deeds yourself?"

Harry bit the inside of his cheek. She knew that wasn't true. She was just trying to provoke Harry, that's all.

"Do you deny it?" Umbridge asked. She stopped her pacing and stared straight at Harry.

"Absolutely!" Harry exclaimed. "I haven't done anything."

Umbridge immediately waved her wand and suddenly, Harry's hands were tied together behind his back in one fell swoop. He couldn't help but growl at her. "Let me go," he said.

"Oh, I'm not scared of you, Mr Potter," Umbridge said. "And I will get to the bottom of this, heed my words."

"I'm telling you the truth," Harry said. The feeling of his hands tied behind his back was provoking some sort of desperation. He eagerly wanted to be freed. He hated being this helpless.

Umbridge shook her head. "I think we both know –" she waved her wand and the rope that tied Harry's hands together was forcefully raised into the air. "That that is a lie."

Harry gasped in pain when his arms stretched to their limits as he was lifted into the air. The tips of his toes touched the ground but only barely. "What are you doing?" he asked angrily.

"Getting you to tell me the truth," Umbridge said easily. She took a seat and started grading essays while Harry hung there, suspended in the air. His feet scrambled for purchase but there was hardly any there.

_You can do this, Harry. Occlude._

An hour passed by without either of them speaking a word. But then Umbridge glanced at the clock and turned to Harry, smiling sweetly. Oh, how Harry wanted to punch that face of hers.

"How are you feeling, dear?" she asked.

The truth was that Harry's arms and shoulders were really starting to hurt. It was almost as if his shoulders wanted to slip out of their sockets but weren't entirely able to do so. His elbows felt the same way. The fact that he was able to lightly touch the ground didn't actually help him in any way. It only seemed to prolong his agony, making him try again and again to alleviate his pain without any results.

"I'm just peachy," Harry said, happy that his voice sounded calm and collected.

Umbridge smiled and stepped closer to Harry. She cupped his cheek in her hand and lightly caressed his face with her thumb. "This needn't be difficult, Harry," she whispered softly. "Just tell me the truth and I'll make the pain go away."

Harry hated the feeling of her touch and angrily turned his head. But Umbridge wouldn't have that. She grabbed his hair in a strong fist and lifted his head back. Harry grit his teeth in agony but refused to cry out. Umbridge was still holding her quill and used the feather to trace Harry's jawline down to his collarbone. "Go on," she whispered. "Scream for me. You know you want to."

"Never," Harry hissed angrily. He expected that to make Umbridge angry but instead she smiled that sickly sweet smile of hers. Her fingers traced the outline of Harry's neck and he shivered in disgust. Then, Umbridge moved behind him and carefully wrapped her arms around his waist. His suspension made it an agonising parody of a hug and Harry wanted nothing more than to wriggle free.

Umbridge carefully stroked his abdomen and Harry was extremely thankful that she hadn't taken his clothes from him this time. But he still felt extremely disgusted by her touch. "Oh, Harry," Umbridge purred. "Poor boy. You're just misunderstood, aren't you? You just want someone to see you for who you really are. I can, if you let me."

"I don't need any of that from you," Harry spat. "You're sick!"

Umbridge tutted. "Careful now," she said dangerously. "I could refocus my attention on someone else, if you really can't accept your guilt. What about that muggleborn friend of yours? She's a bit too much of a know-it-all, wouldn't you say?"

"Stay away from Hermione!" Harry snarled. He lunged almost involuntarily in anger, much to his body's horror. The pain shooting through his arms was horrible.

Umbridge grinned. "Should I?" she asked sweetly. "Well, that's all up to you, isn't it?" She grabbed his jaw and kissed him in the neck. Harry thought he was going to be sick.

"Get off me!" Harry yelled. Umbridge simply chuckled and finally let go.

"Have it your way, my dear," she said. "Just shout if you need me, alright?"

Two hours later and it was almost time for curfew. Harry had now been hanging in the same, dreadful position for three hours. His arms and shoulders were screaming at him for release but there was nothing he could do. He had stopped scrambling with his feet when he realised that they couldn't help him. Sweat was rolling down his back and he relished the feel of every drop since it distracted him from the pain, even if it was only for a moment. But no matter how much he wanted to, he did not beg for his release. It wouldn't do him any good, anyway.

Now, Umbridge got up from her seat, looking a bit chagrined, and cut the ropes that were holding Harry in place. The release of his arms was paired with glorious agony and Harry immediately folded them against his chest to try and alleviate the pressure.

"I regret that I wasn't able to get through to you, Mr Potter," Umbridge sighed. "Perhaps next time, I suppose. You are dismissed." She unlocked the door and waved him out much to Harry's misplaced gratitude. Thank Merlin that she didn't actually assign another detention.

The agony of his arms would not subside but Harry was fairly certain that that was only because of the prolonged strain. He didn't think anything was actually broken or dislocated or the like. So he dutifully went back to the Gryffindor tower so he could take the floo from there.

No one was up waiting for him this time. It could only be expected. They all knew that he was spending the night in the dungeons nowadays so there was no point in waiting for him. He really could've used someone's help now, though.

Very clumsily, he took some of the floo powder from his personal stash, spilling nearly half of it in doing so, and finally managed to toss a sufficient amount into the dying flames. "Snape's quarters," he said softly but clearly and the floo transported him to blissful safety.

As always, he stumbled greatly when he exited the floo, but this time his arms were too useless to actually catch him so he fell flat on his face.

"That must be your worst landing yet," Snape's voice drawled. "One of these days we – Harry, you look dreadfully pale."

"Astute observation," Harry breathed mockingly, scrambling to get up again. "It's this stupid floo travel. It makes my stomach turn."

"Truly?" Snape asked. "I haven't noticed this much discomfort in you before."

"It's because I'm still tired, alright?" Harry snapped. "I just – Would it be alright if I just turned in for the night?"

Snape seemed hesitant. "Are you certain? If you need anything, I'm not a potions master for nothing."

"I'm sure," Harry said. "I just need some sleep, alright?"

Snape frowned. "What did you have to do in detention?"

"The usual," Harry sighed. "Nothing you'd find interesting." This time he didn't ask anymore. "I'm going to bed."

"Your wand?" Snape asked.

Harry nearly cried. His wand was tucked away in a pocket that would be hard to reach now. He took it, trying his best not to show any discomfort and shakily handed Snape his wand. "Too many lines," he grumbled. "Good night."

Snape didn't reply but Harry didn't care. He entered his room, closed the door with his foot, toed off his shoes and fell into his bed. He could shower in the morning.

* * *

_Thank you all for reading. Please don't forget to leave a review._


	28. Chapter 28

_Surprise early update! Why? because 'Gingerme' asked me to in order to celebrate nurses' week. Thank you, Gingerme, for all the hard work you're putting into helping people. This one's for you and all the hard-working nurses and doctors out there. I hope it can lift your spirits a bit._

_On another note, I reached 1000 reviews with the last chapter! Thank you all so very much! Now, without further ado, chapter 28._

* * *

**Chapter 28**

Harry felt dirty. He had been up for a while now and had jumped into the shower almost immediately. His arms still hurt but not so much that he wasn't able to use them. It was nothing he couldn't handle, in any case. But he felt disgusting. Violated. He knew that he was probably overreacting. It was not as if Umbridge had done anything explicit or… no, he didn't even want to think it. But the truth was that she hadn't done all that much. He shouldn't be considering this at all! And yet, he was scrubbing so hard that his skin became reddish. He barely even felt the water anymore as it beat down on his back.

A knock on the door. "Is everything all right in there?"

Harry tried to find his voice. "Sorry," he shouted in response. "I'll be right out."

He hadn't even realised how long he had been in there but Snape wasn't awake yet when he first set foot in the bathroom that morning. That, by itself, was quite unusual. He turned off the water and grabbed a fresh, fluffy towel to dry himself off. His movements were still calculated and deliberate but the soreness was manageable. When he was finally dressed, he opened the door only to find Snape waiting for him as he leaned against the wall. He raised an eyebrow in question but Harry simply flashed him a smile. "Sorry," he said again. "I lost track of time."

"You would do well to consider that there is only one bathroom in my quarters and that I need to use it as well," Snape said. There was a hint of annoyance in his voice and Harry couldn't really blame him. It was a good thing that warm water didn't run out at Hogwarts.

"Yeah," he replied sheepishly. "I won't do it again."

"See to it that you don't," Snape replied gruffly before entering the room himself and closing the door just a bit more firmly than was necessary.

_Good morning to you too._

But that wasn't fair, was it? Snape didn't know about the previous evening and he damn well wasn't about to find out. So Harry could not hold it against him that he didn't think Harry had a good reason for hogging the shower for so long. If anything, it was surprising that the man hadn't shown more annoyance. Eager to remain on his good side, Harry made sure that he would be ready by the time Snape was done. He packed his bookbag for the day and put his carefully rolled up essays on top. He smiled to himself when he spotted the brown package that had come for him earlier and decided to hide it underneath his bed. It wouldn't do for Snape to find it.

By the time Snape came out of the bathroom, Harry sat at the ready on the couch, his bag on the floor next to him. All that was left was for Snape to give him back his wand.

As Snape absentmindedly towelled his hair dry, he regarded Harry carefully. "Good morning," he said pointedly. "Was your sleep uninterrupted last night?" he asked.

"Yes," Harry replied. The truth was that he had slept like a log. His body had probably been extraordinarily tired for him to not even have any nightmares about Umbridge's horrible treatment. Harry shuddered involuntarily at the memory.

Snape narrowed his eyes. "I can't shake the feeling that something is amiss," he said. "You are not keeping things from me, I hope?"

"Of course not!" Harry was quick to respond.

"Hn," Snape grunted. "Let it remain that way. Keeping secrets from me will not be helpful as we try and make progress."

"I know," Harry replied evenly. He did know. But, there were things that you just couldn't say or admit to. Especially since Harry didn't want to 'overload' Snape with his troubles. The man already had enough to be worried about and Harry was still somewhat concerned that he would eventually just… give up on him.

"Very well," Snape said after a long pause. "Hurry on up to the Gryffindor tower and head to the Great Hall with your friends. I know that you haven't eaten well yesterday and I expect you to catch up today."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yes, _dad_," Harry replied sarcastically.

"Go," Snape said. "We're already running late." He handed Harry his wand and gave him a little shove towards the fireplace. Harry obeyed and threw in his floo powder that transported him to the Gryffindor common room.

On arrival, Harry was immediately pulled into a chaotic whirlwind of activity. People were talking animatedly with one another in a serious tone of voice. Even Fred and George seemed to have lost their happy selves to the gloomy aura that engulfed the tower at that moment. People kept going up to the dorm rooms and coming back down with others in tow, visible relief on their faces. But some of the girls seemed visibly distraught. When Ron came zooming past, Harry grabbed his arm which made him whirl around to face him.

"Harry!" Ron exclaimed. "Glad to see you're alright."

Harry frowned. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Never mind that now," Ron said. "Have you seen Hermione? We – Oh, thank Merlin. _There_ she is." Hermione came rushing down the stairs, looking absolutely flustered. As soon as she saw her friends, she threw her arms around them both and pulled them into a suffocating embrace. It made Harry shudder in reminiscence and he quickly pulled himself away.

"Will someone tell me what's going?" he asked in exasperation.

"It's Lavender," Hermione said in a hushed voice. "She went missing from the tower in the middle of the night. Professor McGonagall came in earlier to look for her. She's… gone."

* * *

Lavender Brown was the only one that had gone missing that time. And she was the first Gryffindor to disappear. The entire tower had been in disarray when they tried to find everyone else but even that frantic chaos had been better than the quiet atmosphere that engulfed their table at breakfast.

Harry didn't need to strain his ears to hear the whispers coming from the other tables. The accusatory assumptions of the houses that didn't know where Harry went at night. But this time, there had been no black-out. He was sure of it. No one had entered his mind. All he had done was sleep. He didn't have anything to do with it. Right?

Snape was speaking with McGonagall, much to the obvious dislike of Umbridge. Harry felt sick to his stomach when he saw her and tried to draw his gaze away from the pink catastrophe. McGonagall was in obvious distress but Snape kept his cool as he always did. There was some wild gesturing in the general direction of Gryffindor coming from McGonagall that made Harry feel somewhat sorry for her. It was a silly notion, but he had never really considered the kind of stress these disappearances brought on the heads of houses. Suddenly, he felt sort of guilty for accusing Snape of not caring back when Crabbe and Goyle disappeared. The sullen faces of all of the heads of houses proved that they were all deeply shaken.

There was no way that this could be kept a secret anymore. The students were in more danger than ever. Even more so than when a basilisk roamed the corridors. And with the Prophet proclaiming Dumbledore mad and Harry a liar, it would only be a matter of time before the parents started to take their children home. Dean was already getting letters from his mother.

"I hope they don't close the school," Hermione whispered.

"They might have to if this carries on," Ron said softly. "If not even Dumbledore can stop these disappearances, there's really nothing else they can do."

Harry clenched his fists. They were right, of course, but he didn't want the school to shut down. He didn't want to go back to the Dursleys so soon. Snape might have hinted that someone else might be willing to take him in but he was sure that no arrangements could have been made on such short notice.

"Don't give up so fast," Hermione said. "The school is not closing down yet. They'll find out what's going on before the end. They always do."

"You mean that _we_ always do," Ron mumbled. "But I wouldn't even know where to start. Harry, did you notice anything… strange last night?"

Harry knew what he was getting at and solemnly shook his head. "No," he replied. "I slept like a log."

"Well, that's good, isn't it?" Hermione asked. She glanced towards Harry's hands and smiled. "At least she seems to have stopped using that awful quill."

"Quiet, Hermione," Harry hissed. He wasn't ready for anyone to find out about Umbridge just yet. Not until after the year was over and she was, most likely, gone.

The sound of the scraping of a chair echoed through the hall and, as one, everyone's head turned towards the high table, expecting Dumbledore to, once again, say something about the most recent disappearance. But it wasn't him. Dolores Umbridge had stood upright and was now calmly walking around the table until she stood where everyone could clearly see her. Harry shuddered and looked away, clenching his fork in his fist. Oh, how he hated that woman.

"Good morning everyone," she said, a sad inflexion in her voice.

_As fake as her pearl necklace._

"It is with great sorrow that I address you all this morning." A quick glance at Dumbledore showed that the man was quite perplexed to see Umbridge make a speech but he didn't stop her.

"These recent disappearances have made it quite clear to the ministry that there is something sinister happening right here at Hogwarts. Something that the headmaster is, unfortunately, not capable of stopping."

McGonagall jumped up. "Now see here –"

But Snape pulled her back down and shook his head at her. Umbridge smiled at Snape, clearly taking his action as something he was doing in _her_ favour and continued. "The minister is quite concerned about the welfare of each and every one of you. He is working hard to find those missing students as soon as possible. In the meantime, to prevent any more losses, he has appointed me as high inquisitor of this school. This position will allow me to get rid of any threats I am able to find as well as investigate wherever and whenever I deem it necessary. Naturally, more rules will follow to make sure that the safety of all students is preserved."

Harry stared wide-eyed at his plate. High inquisitor. Umbridge had only become more powerful. What was she going to do with that power? He very much doubted that she cared about the wellbeing of the students whatsoever.

"As regrettable as the disappearance of Ms Brown is, I'm afraid that the lessons will have to continue as scheduled. I'm certain that's what she would want as well."

Harry growled. How dare she? How dare she put words into other people's mouths like that?

"Finish your meals and head to your first class immediately. Dawdling will not be tolerated." There was a small pause and her stern voice turned back into the sickly sweet kind. "Thank you for your warm acceptance of my new role and have a very pleasant day."

The click-clack of her shoes told Harry that she had gone back to her seat.

The Gryffindor table was no longer quiet. In unison with the other three house tables, they erupted in loud chatter and panicked mumbling. Everyone kept looking at the high table and at Dumbledore to see if he would do something about this; Dispute her words or something. But nothing of the sort happened. His quiet only served to cement Umbridge's claims and brought chaos and dissatisfaction

"Well, this is the end of Hogwarts," Ron said angrily. "I can't believe that Dumbledore would agree to this!"

"Don't you see?" Hermione asked. "He has no choice in the matter."

Ron huffed. "Maybe You-know-who can do us all a favour and kidnap _her_ next time."

"_Please_," Hermione replied. "I don't think that even _he_ wants her."

"Too bad," Harry said.

"Look at it this way, mate," Ron said encouragingly. "At least Hogwarts won't close down just yet."

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "There is that."

* * *

Umbridge had wasted no time making up additional rules. Most of them were petty and ridiculous and had absolutely nothing to do with finding out who was behind all the disappearances. But the most annoying one was the one that forbade any clubs or meetings to happen on school grounds. The DA was already a secret from Umbridge, but now it was even more important that it would be kept that way. A couple of meetings had happened since the first one and so far no one had snitched. Harry couldn't help but be disappointed, though, when he entered the room of requirement that day.

"Where is everyone?" he asked Ron. The group that was waiting for his teaching was much smaller than the usual one. "Is it Umbridge?"

"Er… I don't know how to tell you this," Ron said. "It's… the truth is –"

"They're scared of me," Harry finished for him. "They think I have something to do with all of this."

"I think they're on the fence about it," Ron admitted. "They're not ready to believe the rumours but they don't want to take a chance either."

"They're mindless sheep," Hermione said matter-of-factly. "It's better for all of us if we can continue without them."

Harry sighed and allowed his gaze to sweep over what remained of his DA group. Fred and George were still there, of course, and so was Neville. Ginny had apparently still managed to bring Michael along and Luna was there, seemingly not a care in the world. Most surprising, though, was the presence of the two Slytherins. Nott was in the process of explaining something to Ackerley using overly large hand gestures. Harry couldn't help but smile. Who would've thought that those Slytherins would prove to be among the most loyal of his 'students'?

"Welcome back," Harry said. "And thank you for joining me again, despite what the rumours say."

"Please, Harry," Fred said dismissively. "We know you had nothing to do with all of this."

"Yeah," George said. "Have you seen those scrawny little arms? There's no way he would be able to drag Crabbe and Goyle anywhere!"

"Guys," Harry said. "I appreciate it, really, but I don't need you to do that."

_Everyone who still came probably doesn't believe it, anyway._

"Before we begin, are there any concerns about what happened lately?" Harry asked.

Nott raised his hand. "Yeah," he said. "What are we going to do about Umbridge? She basically outlawed us."

"We knew when we started that she would be against this group," Harry pointed out.

"That's true," Nott replied. "But she didn't really have the power to do anything about it before, did she? And now, not even Dumbledore can bail us out."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "If you want to leave and pretend that you were never a part of this, be my guest."

"That's now what I meant," Nott snapped. "I was just wondering if you had something in mind to keep her at bay."

"Don't worry, Theo," George said, smiling brightly.

"If it ever comes to that, _we'll_ take care of her," Fred added.

Nott raised his eyebrows in surprise. "You?" he asked. "What are you planning, exactly?"

"It's a surprise," the twins said in unison.

Harry wasn't sure what that surprise was, nor did he really want to know. The less he knew about the twins' antics, the better. But it was nice to see them have his back.

"Look," Harry said. "I realise that Umbridge is a big obstacle for us but let's be honest here; She's not all that bright. I doubt she'll ever find out about this unless someone tells her about us. And either way, you know the record of our defence teachers. I bet my entire vault that she'll be gone by the end of the school year. But we'll still be here. And I want everyone to be prepared for what's to come." He smiled. "All of us."

No one glanced at the Slytherins anymore. They all just sat there in acceptance of each other and Harry was happy that the prejudice against these two Slytherins had cleared up rather quickly. A common enemy can unite anyone. Even Gryffindors and Slytherins.

When they started practising silencing charms, Harry was happy to see the Slytherins team up with Fred and George without a second thought. House unity. Dumbledore made it seem so difficult and yet… here, it came so naturally.

Nott laughed when his silencing spell hit Fred and he resorted to miming his intentions.

The group had become much smaller, yes. But they had also become that much tighter.

* * *

When Harry flood to Snape's quarters that evening, he arrived in the middle of a conversation between Snape and Dumbledore.

" – can't possibly allow for this to happen, Albus!"

"If I don't, the minister will see fit to replace me with someone more accommodating, Severus. You know this. Ah, Harry! Good to see you, my boy."

Harry dusted himself off absentmindedly. "I'm sorry for interrupting," he said. "I'll just go to my room."

Snape stopped him by putting a hand on his shoulder. "Actually, there was something we wanted to ask you."

"Ask me?" Harry asked. "About what?"

"Sadly, about the disappearance of Ms Brown," Dumbledore said sombrely. "We wanted to know if you experienced a blackout of sorts last night."

"Oh," Harry replied. "No, actually. I fell asleep almost as soon as I got here. That's it."

"And you can confirm that he didn't leave these chambers, Severus?" Dumbledore asked.

"I can," Snape replied thoughtfully. "Though he did come in rather late."

"I was serving detention," Harry reminded him. "Umbridge likes to keep me as long as she can."

"As you are surely aware, you'd best be careful around her, Harry," Dumbledore said. "The minister doesn't trust me at this point and in extension, neither does she. I'm afraid that your loyalty towards me might cause her to act unfairly when it comes to you."

Harry scoffed. "Among other things," he mumbled.

Snape narrowed his eyes. "Is there something you'd like to tell me?" he asked sternly.

Harry sighed. "No, sir," he said. "She just gets to me. That's all." He then turned to Dumbledore who didn't meet his gaze. "Professor Dumbledore, are you really not going to do anything about this?"

Dumbledore sighed gravely. "I cannot," he said. "Not now. Without these disappearances happening, I might have been able to fight her intrusion but the way things are now, that is no longer possible."

"But this is not fair! You're the headmaster!" Harry exclaimed. "I wish that you could just fire her and replace her with someone else. Even Lockhart would do at this point."

Dumbledore smiled grimly. "Would that it were, my boy. Would that it were." He rose from his seat and inclined his head towards Snape. "I'd best be off now. I wish you both a pleasant evening."

"And to you, Albus," Snape replied.

In the wake of the green flames vanishing Dumbledore out of sight, Snape sat down heavily in his favoured chair, sporting a troubled look that he would never show outside of his quarters. Harry dutifully drew his wand and put it on the table in front of Snape. The man nodded curtly and put the wand away.

"I'm sorry this happened," Harry said.

"And what exactly are you sorry for?" Snape replied. "It's not your fault that this woman was made to be head inquisitor. Unless you owled the minister to ask him to do just that?"

Harry chuckled. "No," he said. "And right now, he doesn't listen to anything I have to say anyway."

"That'll change again," Snape said easily. "The man waxes and wanes as does the moon."

"He's an idiot," Harry added.

"That too," Snape allowed. "So, no detentions today?"

Harry huffed. "I don't regularly fall asleep during class, you know?"

Snape chuckled deeply. "As I recall, you get in trouble for far more than just that."

"Hey!" Harry exclaimed. "I haven't done anything wrong this year!"

"Mouthing off to a teacher can't exactly be considered good behaviour," Snape said calmly. "Nor does forming secret clubs."

"That second thing wasn't against the rules until today, though," Harry replied.

"Ah," Snape said. "That's very true. I'll take it you'll disband the club immediately then?"

Harry smiled and shook his head. "Not unless you threaten to tell on me."

"Hmmm, I am still a Slytherin, you realise," Snape said. "I would never offer anyone such information so very freely. No, for now, I think I'll keep her in the dark."

"She might ask you to be her partner in crime, you know?" Harry said easily, stretching out on the couch. "She fancies you."

"Yes," Snape replied dryly. "I think we've already established that."

Harry chuckled. "You know, she might not be so insufferable if she –"

"Finish that thought and you will be copying your potions textbook word for word," Snape snarled. "Twice."

"I just wish there was something we could do about her," Harry sighed.

Snape rubbed the bridge of his nose in thought. "I believe that I've indulged you too much when it comes to speaking of _Professor_ Umbridge," he said. "Whatever else she may be, she is still your defence teacher. Speaking of 'doing something about her' is not something I want to hear in regards to any member of the staff."

"Come on," Harry said playfully. "Like you all aren't thinking the same thing."

"What we do or do not think is none of your concern," Snape replied flatly. "We shall deal with the situation as we see fit."

"Hm," Harry responded. "By doing nothing, it looks like."

"Not acting is a choice as well," Snape replied. "One that can prove to be more difficult than behaving rashly, though I would not expect a Gryffindor to understand such things."

"Fine," Harry said. "It's not like I had a plan or anything. I just hoped that _you_ might. Professor McGonagall seemed about ready to explode."

Snape chuckled. "She definitely carries a fire within her that is hard to contain," he admitted. "And don't forget that one of her students went missing this very morning. She was understandably upset."

Harry shook his head. "I really don't understand you two," he said. "Sometimes you seem ready to claw each other's throats out and other times you seem to be the best of friends."

"We both have quite… ah, strong personalities," Snape said. "And we don't always match up. But we respect each other enough as colleagues to at least form a united front against the likes of…" he cleared his throat. "That's quite enough, I think. I'm saying things I shouldn't and I do believe it's time for you to get started on your homework seeing how you've done nothing yesterday."

"I had –"

"Detention. I know," Snape allowed. "Nevertheless, you have some work to do now. I would advise you to get started."

Harry started to get up from his seat when he thought of something. He glanced at Snape who was regarding him calmly and sat back down.

"Sir?" he said. "Do you think that Hogwarts might be closed if this goes on?"

Snape sighed. "I really don't believe that will happen anytime soon," he replied. "It might be the only good thing to come from Professor Umbridge's interference."

"Right," Harry said, still not entirely convinced.

"Harry," Snape said softly. "If it does come to that, I will make sure that suitable arrangements are made for you."

Feeling more vulnerable than he had in a long time, Harry looked Snape in the eye, trying not to show just how desperate he was. "Really?" he asked.

Snape nodded solemnly. "You have my word."

* * *

Harry recognised the subtle push of Snape's mind and he immediately erected his walls. He glared at Snape in annoyance. He knew that the man had said that he could test him at any given time but in the middle of potions class? Brewing the everlasting elixir was difficult enough without Snape trying to distract him. But Snape didn't even acknowledge his glare and was instead hovering over Neville's cauldron with a distinctly sour expression on his face.

"Harry, that's far too much vinegar," Hermione hissed. "Look here. The recipe says to add two tablespoons. Not an entire vial!"

It was in the nick of time, too. Harry put the vinegar back and glanced over his recipe again. "Oh," he said. "Sorry. It's not my fault, though."

"Oh, really?" Hermione said sardonically. "Whose was it then?"

Harry inclined his head towards Snape in a meaningful way.

"Oh," Hermione said in confusion but then it dawned on her. "Oh! Really? Now?"

Harry nodded.

"How did it go?" Hermione asked.

"Much better this time," Harry said. "I don't think he saw –"

"Mr Potter, Ms Granger. Is your intellect that superior to that of your classmates that you don't need to pay attention while you brew? Or are you simply that gifted in the art of potion-making that you are able to brew while chatting each other up like a pair of middle-aged witches over a cup of tea?"

_Wow. How creative._

"I'm sorry, sir," Hermione said. "It was my fault."

"Ten points from Gryffindor," Snape drawled. "And I expect your sample to be Outstanding."

"Yes, sir," Hermione said in a small voice.

The snickering of the Slytherins behind him drew Harry's attention. He saw that Nott and Ackerley were trying their hardest not to get involved. Malfoy was fixing him with a hard stare but all the rest of the snakes were almost doubling over in laughter.

_Honestly. Are they five? You would think they've never seen him take points from Gryffindor before._

Hermione was visibly distraught by the loss of points. "Don't worry about it," Harry whispered. "You'll get them back." Hermione nodded but didn't say anything else. Instead, she measured the correct amount of vinegar to add to the potion.

By the end of the class, Harry really believed that their portion would likely earn an O (more because of Hermione than himself but Harry was willing to accept it.) Snape took their vial with a grunt and they were able to leave the classroom at the same time as the rest of the class.

Someone bumped into Harry from behind and he dropped the books he had been holding. He glanced up to see Zabini strolling past, smirking as they looked at each other.

"Woops!" Zabini said mockingly. "Don't be too angry, Potter. I wouldn't want to be next on your list."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ron growled. Hermione was helping Harry pick up his books.

"Oh, you know what I mean, Weasel," Zabini said. "I'm saying that the-boy-who-lived here is getting rid of whoever he dislikes. Everyone knows it."

"In second year they thought he was the Heir of Slytherin," Ron pointed out. "You were wrong then and you're wrong now."

"Ah, but that's the question, isn't it?" Daphne Greengrass said as she sidled up next to Zabini. "_Were_ we wrong? The way I see it, he still might be the heir of Slytherin."

"You have no proof of that!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Oh, my poor, sweet little mudblood," Greengrass sighed. "There is no evidence to the contrary either. And let's face it. The boy wonder _is_ a parselmouth."

"That proves nothing," Ron said.

"You keep thinking that," Zabini mocked. "But don't come crying to us when your golden boy turns dark."

"That will never happen," Harry snarled. "And I know you don't think so either. If you were really worried about me doing something to you, you wouldn't be provoking me like this."

"Unless he's stupid," Ron pointed out. "Tell me, Zabini, are you stupid?"

Zabini's smirk turned into a scowl. "Watch it, Weasel," he growled. "A family like yours could be easily squashed. No one would miss you when you're gone."

"Is that a threat?" Ron growled. "Because even my little sister could take you on, hands down!"

"Ron," Harry warned. "Let's not go there."

Zabini laughed. "Is that so?" he said. "You need your little sister to fight your battles for you, do you? I suppose that's how lions work, though."

"Blaise."

Malfoy put a hand on Zabini's shoulder, causing the ebony-skinned boy to turn and look at him. "What?" he spat, clearly irritated to be interrupted. Malfoy's eyes flashed dangerously and for a moment, Harry recognised something akin to fear in Zabini's eyes.

"Don't waste your breath on them," Malfoy said calmly. "Your pointless squabbling will get us nowhere. In case you've forgotten, we have a class to get to."

"But Draco, they –"

"Blaise," Malfoy said again.

Zabini huffed in annoyance and shrugged his shoulder free. He threw one last withering glare in Harry's direction before turning on his heel in a dramatic flare and stomping off. The other Slytherins, including Draco, followed suit.

"Did that just happen?" Ron asked. "Did Malfoy just tell Zabini to bugger off?"

"You know what?" Harry said in disbelief. "I think that's exactly what happened."

Ron shook his head. "Honestly, if Neville's potion ends up getting an O, I'm going to really believe that we're in an alternate dimension!"

"Hey!" Neville protested from somewhere in the back.

Ron chuckled. "Sorry, Neville," he said sheepishly. "Come on. Let's get to Herbology."

Harry followed absentmindedly, wondering if Malfoy really could have changed. He hadn't said a bad word all year. And if he really _had_ turned over a new leaf, maybe he would like to join the DA. Ron might just get an aneurysm if that happened.

* * *

_This was an extra update so yes, you'll still get another one on Friday! You're all great reviewers so I probably don't even need to ask but I'll still do it. Please review. For me?_


	29. Chapter 29

_Hi everyone! Thanks for the abundance of reviews you've given me. It made the extra update worthwhile. On that note, the people who only come to check on Tuesdays and Fridays, be warned that I did an extra update on Wednesday so you might need to go back one chapter before reading this one._

* * *

**Chapter 29**

It was a leisurely Saturday morning that Harry sat in front of the fireplace in Snape's quarters, carefully sipping the tea that one of the house-elves had brought him. The one main downside to this arrangement was that Snape tended to sleep in on the weekends and Harry couldn't very well leave without his wand. Knowing that mornings like these happened frequently, though, Harry had prepared a little something for Snape. That's what you get, after all, when you leave a teenage boy to sit in boredom for several hours in the morning.

Harry couldn't stop the grin on his face when he thought of Snape's possible reactions and tried to think of other things to not give himself away once Snape woke up. So he ended up rereading his essays. Boredom really was one of the main horrors down here. And Harry was not about to rummage through Snape's bookcase. That man's love for books bordered on the love a woman had for her child and Harry was not about to mess with that, willy-nilly.

It was around eleven in the morning when Snape's bedroom door finally creaked open and the man stepped out looking decidedly sullen.

"'Morning," Harry greeted lazily. "Sleep well?" The sight of Snape's bedhead brought Harry's grin back.

"What are you smirking at, brat?" Snape asked grumpily.

"Oh just at your gravity-defying hair," Harry replied cheekily as he eyed a particularly stubborn pluck of hair that seemed to gravitate upwards.

"That's because it grows towards the sun," Snape mumbled, causing Harry to laugh out loud. Sure, Snape could be in a surly mood in the morning but his sardonic humour was always in place.

"If you have no current need of the facilities, I'm going to take a shower," Snape announced. "Or would you like your wand so you can head out?"

"I'll wait," Harry said innocently. "I thought it might be nice to have breakfast together. Or maybe we'd be better off eating brunch at this time."

Snape eyed him sceptically. "You're acting odd," he said.

"Am I?" Harry asked sheepishly. "How's that?"

"You are – never mind," Snape sighed. "I'll be right back."

"Alright," Harry replied. He watched Snape go before going back to pretending to read his essay.

There was a very long moment of silence. Far too long, actually. But eventually, Snape came back out, unshowered and completely flabbergasted.

"Harry," he said evenly.

"Yes?" Harry asked.

"What is the meaning of those ducks?"

"Ducks?" Harry repeated, fighting hard to keep from smiling.

"The ducks in the bathroom," Snape drawled.

"What?" Harry asked. "There are ducks in the bathroom?"

"You know very well that there are ducks in the bathroom!" Snape exclaimed. "Why did you – come here." He grabbed Harry by his shirt collar and dragged him with him towards the bathroom. Honestly, Harry didn't need the prompting. He was enjoying this far too much.

One look inside revealed what Harry already knew was there. Fifteen rubber ducks were set up in the middle of the bathtub, in a classic quidditch play. All of them were holding onto tiny brooms and the referee – who was placed in the middle – was just a tad bigger than the rest.

"What are these doing here?" Snape asked, gesturing widely in exasperation.

Harry shrugged. "Playing quidditch, it looks like," he deadpanned.

"Playing quid –" Snape actually facepalmed, causing Harry to erupt in a fit of childish giggles. He waved his wand and the ducks all floated over to Harry. "Well played," Snape said, finally allowing a small smile to soften his expression. "Though I'm not certain that it was a good idea of you to start this war."

Harry laughed. "Bring it on," he challenged.

Snape quirked an eyebrow. "As you wish," he said. "For now, take your ducks and put them elsewhere."

Harry winked cheekily. "Okay," he said. "For now."

* * *

The inquisitorial squad. That's what Umbridge liked the call the new group she was requesting volunteers for, under the guise of handing out extra credit. It was nothing but a group for bullies who were all too happy at catching the people they didn't like red-handed while breaking a rule of Umbridge's own invention. And while said group did not spark a great deal of interest, it was unsurprising that all of those who _had_ signed up belonged to Slytherin.

Harry was watching the Marauders Map for any sign of nearby Slytherins while the DA members came into the room of requirement. While he was grateful that Snape had given Harry the map back by now, he was still kind of salty about the fact that he kept the invisibility cloak to himself. Apparently one had no need for an invisibility cloak when they abided by the rules.

_Meddling rubber duck lover._

For the most part, the DA members had managed to come in. Now, they were only waiting for Fred and George.

"How are you doing Harry?" a quiet voice asked. Absentmindedly, Harry half-turned towards Tom Ackerley. Lately, he didn't stay close to Nott anymore. It was almost as if he felt safer around the other houses than before. Harry would hate for that fragile trust to be scattered if Umbridge ever found out about the DA.

"I'm fine, Tom," Harry said. "You?"

"Yeah, great," Tom replied, glancing over his shoulder. "Say, I – we had a question for you."

"Oh?" Harry replied. "Go ahead."

"It's about adding an extra member. If you agree, of course," Tom said shyly.

Harry frowned. "You know we're open to new members if they can be trusted. Who exactly are we talking about?"

That's when Theodore Nott appeared behind Tom, amicably slinging an arm around his neck. "Ah, already talking to Harry, I see," he said. "What did he say?"

"I still haven't heard the name of this supposed new member," Harry said. "So go on."

"Tommy!" Theodore complained. "Are you leaving the hardest bits of the conversation up to yours truly again?"

Harry crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow, vaguely wondering if that made him look like Snape.

"We're talking about Draco," Theodore then said. "We think he'd like to join."

"Malfoy?" Harry asked. "Last I heard, he joined the inquisitorial squad!"

"He didn't, though," Tom said instantly. "Umbridge asked him to but Draco told her that he didn't have the time. That there were other things on his mind."

Theodore jabbed Tom with his elbow. "The reasons don't really matter. The fact is that he's not in line with Umbridge at all. Truth be told, he's been a bit quiet this year."

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "I've noticed that. But that doesn't wipe the slate clean. He's been a right jerk these past years, even if this one doesn't count."

Harry might have been considering asking Malfoy to join the DA but he didn't exactly have to say that. No, it was best if the two Slytherins thought that Harry was reluctant about this. It might play into his advantage.

"What makes you think he'd be interested in joining the DA in the first place?" he asked.

Tom and Theodore glanced awkwardly at each other before Theo replied. "Well, you see… he's got kind of a tough time ahead of him."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "I can imagine with parents like his."

"Yeah," Theo said. "That's exactly why. He can't exactly get away from the likes of You-know-who the way he is now, can he?"

Harry chuckled bitterly. "I don't think a few months in this group will improve his chances by much," he argued. "And I don't fully believe that he'd want to walk a different path from his parents."

"That's not fair!" Tom exclaimed loudly.

Harry frowned at him. The boy was usually a shy one, hiding behind Theo whenever things got difficult. Him standing up for Malfoy was entirely out of character for the boy.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked carefully. "You do realise what I am to Voldemort, don't you? I would be stupid to trust the likes of Malfoy just like that."

Theo put a hand on Tom's shoulder and adopted a calm tone of voice. "Look. We know that Draco's been a bit of a prat. But he's not really done much past the point of your typical high school rivalry, I'd say. The way things are going now – well – he really doesn't want to end up like his father."

"And how is that?" Harry asked icily, crossing his arms across his chest.

Theo scoffed. "Down in the dirt," he said. "Kissing the hem of You-know-who's robes. Did you know that _he's_ staying at Malfoy manor right now?"

Harry _did_ know that but it was interesting to know that Theo would share that information so willingly.

"So, you're telling me that Malfoy is willing to stand up to Voldemort? Even when he's with Lucius right now?" Somehow, Harry found that hard to believe. "Isn't he worried that his precious Dark Lord will kill his father once he finds out about this?"

"He's worried about that, anyway," Theo said. To Harry, the boy looked as if he was doing his best not to get angry. To his credit, he was coming across as very calm and rational. "And besides," Theo continued. "He is not his father. He doesn't have the stomach for anything the death eaters do. Trust me on that."

Harry cocked his head to the side as he regarded his Slytherin ally asking for his trust. Yes, the boy had become his ally and yes, Harry couldn't help but feel as if trusting him came easy but was that really a good idea at that point?

A glance at Ron who was calmly going over some of the previous spells told him that even the redhead wasn't worried about these particular Slytherins anymore.

Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Are you sure that he won't tell Umbridge the first chance he gets?"

"Absolutely," Theo said confidently. Tom didn't seem so sure, though.

Harry smiled. He had played with the Slytherins long enough. "Alright," he said. "If you're certain that it's safe, I will trust your judgement."

Both Theo and Tom looked absolutely perplexed and Harry couldn't help but feel a bit proud that he managed to catch a few Slytherins off guard.

"Really?" Theo asked. "I didn't – I mean, I thought that…" he trailed off, looking at Tom a bit awkwardly.

"You're members of the DA, aren't you?" Harry said. "And I can see how much you appreciate coming here. In fact, I doubt that either of you would be willing to jeopardize anything we're doing here, right?"

Theo nodded.

"So if you think you can trust Malfoy to, at the very least, keep our secret, I'll trust you," Harry added.

"Did I hear the words 'trust' and 'Malfoy' uttered in the same sentence?" Ron, who was now done showing some of the others just how to effectively cast an elemental shield, came up to stand next to Harry. "Because, surely, my ears were deceiving me."

Harry grinned. "Nope," he said. "No deception going on up there. Theo and Tom are going to ask Malfoy if he wants to join us."

"Er…" Ron scratched his head and looked helplessly between Harry and the Slytherins. "Look, no offence to you blokes. You're alright and everything. But Malfoy isn't like you two."

"He's not his father," Tom said.

"No," Ron agreed awkwardly. "Maybe not, but he is himself. And, quite truthfully, I don't know if I'd consider him DA material."

"Look, Ron," Harry said. "When this all started, I asked you to consider allowing Slytherins to join us. You have and the two that came forward ended up being some of our most loyal members."

Ron sucked in air between his teeth. "Yeah," he said. "That's true and all but –"

"If they could trust us enough to come train with us, why can't we trust them to be able to observe their housemates rationally?"

"This is Malfoy we're talking about," Ron said urgently. "For all we know, these two were brainwashed by the git."

"These two are standing right here," Theo said crossly. "And I assure you that the Malfoy family, while obviously of high standing, is not powerful enough to talk down on _my_ family. Draco is not cunning enough to trick me into anything, really. In fact, he has barely said anything to anyone this year."

"Why?" Ron asked. "Why is he suddenly acting this way?"

Theo shrugged. "You'll have to ask him, I'm afraid. But don't get your hopes up. He hasn't exactly opened up to any of us either."

Harry wondered vaguely if Malfoy's silence and inactivity of late bore any resemblance to his own withdrawal. If that was, in fact, the case; the only thing Harry could try was to bring him out of it. Coming to the DA might be a good first step.

"Ask him," he said again. "And if he says yes, bring him to the next meeting."

Ron pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm telling you, this is a bad idea," he said.

"Maybe," Harry said with a thin smile. "But sometimes, you need to take a leap of faith."

* * *

Harry gingerly stretched his arms, aware that the dull ache that had been plaguing him was nearly gone. He sat on the couch in Snape's sitting room while the potions master was brewing some tea. Harry had asked him once why he would bother if the house-elves could just deliver whatever tea he wanted but Snape had said that he was the better brewer. Somehow, Harry was willing to believe that.

When Snape came back, he was carrying not only tea but also biscuits.

_Sure, that seems absolutely necessary while practising Legilimency._

"Perhaps not necessary," Snape said blandly. "But it will be nice if I don't have to go get it after we're done. Legilimency takes a lot out of both participants, you see."

Harry narrowed his eyes a bit, annoyed that Snape was reading his mind again but chose not to respond. The rational part of him knew that the man was not doing this on purpose, after all. Still, it felt very one-sided this way. Wouldn't it be more than fair if Snape didn't block his own thoughts from Harry? Because now, Harry was the only one affected.

"I doubt the tea will stay warm that long," Harry replied blandly.

Snape shook his head. "You seem to keep forgetting that you're a wizard," he said easily. "Now, it is time for us to explore the option of Legilimency. Before we get started, I must be very clear about this: You are not to practice this skill on anyone but me and only when we are both in agreement. An untrained Legilimens can unintentionally damage someone's mind quite terribly."

Harry gulped. "I understand, sir," he said.

_Though it might be difficult to convince Hermione of that._

"Ms Granger will simply have to accept that she is not the one in charge here," Snape said simply.

Harry huffed. "Could you not do that?" he said. "It's getting annoying."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Surely you realise that the things I hear through this link are entirely unintentional and out of my hands."

"Sure, I'll believe that one of the most powerful Occlumens in the world is unable to block out my thoughts," Harry said sardonically. "Whatever you want me to believe, Professor. Let's just move on."

Snape frowned. "Did I not explain thoroughly enough that this link is, indeed, quite unprecedented? I assure you that I have as much experience with this as you do."

"Well, it's not fair!" Harry exclaimed. "You can hear whatever I'm thinking but I can't do the same!"

"I cannot hear everything, Harry," Snape said. "Only bits and pieces and only that when you're near."

"Then maybe this arrangement is just not working out, anymore, is it?" Harry said. "If my mind isn't safe from you –"

"So you've decided to explain the situation to Professor McGonagall, then?" Snape asked.

"No," Harry said. "But it's been long enough. I no longer feel like…"

"You can't even say it," Snape noted. "I do not believe you to be ready just yet."

"Then stay out of my head!" Harry yelled.

Snape fixed him with a deadly glare. One that warned Harry that the man had had quite enough. "If my involuntary intrusion bothers you that much, I suggest that you do your best to learn how to occlude at all times."

"Maybe if would teach me better…" Harry mumbled.

"You are treading on dangerously thin ice, Mr Potter," Snape growled. "I am dedicating quite a large portion of my spare time – which is already quite limited – to seeing to your well-being and extracurricular education. You are not to tell me that I should do better. No, indeed, you are not to tell me to do anything."

Harry glared at Snape with as much fury as he could muster. He could feel that old feeling welling up again. The one that told him to lash out. To provoke.

"I should have known," Harry said in an angry hiss. "That you would never quite stop being a greasy git."

Snape slammed his flat hand against the table, making the teacups and plate with biscuits clatter loudly. One cup fell to the floor and scattered. Harry jumped back, losing all colour in his face. He knew he had gone too far.

"Detention, Mr Potter, tomorrow evening!" Snape exclaimed. "Your behaviour is absolutely appalling. If you had any guardians worth their salt, I would have to inform them of your actions but as it stands… go to your room!"

Harry's eyes widened. "What?" Aunt Petunia had ordered him to his room many times before but it had never quite felt like this. No, Petunia had always done it so that Harry would not be in her way. To torment him. But Snape was genuinely upset with him. He had even reverted back to calling him 'Mr Potter'. Harry licked his lips in anxiety, frozen in place as he contemplated what to do.

"Now!" Snape yelled. Harry flinched back and almost fell off the couch in his haste to get away from the angry dungeon bat. He fled into his room and closed the door just a bit too loudly, sparked by the hint of rage that was still coiled within him. He kicked off his shoes, not even caring where they flew, and sat down on his bed.

Silence returned to Snape's quarters. Harry could hear the occasional angry mutter and the sound of the remains of the tea set clanking in the background. Slowly, Harry's own anger left his body and he started sagging a bit, contemplating his own behaviour.

He still thought that Snape could do more to try and stop Harry's thoughts from reaching him but, on the other hand, the man had been right. He was already doing a lot for Harry. What with his job working for the order; teaching at Hogwarts as well as spying on Voldemort, he probably _didn't_ have a whole lot of time left for other things. Especially considering that he had a potion to brew for Voldemort. So even if he could have researched a way for Harry to block his thoughts, he likely didn't have the time for it. Blaming him for that, wasn't fair.

Harry already knew that he was taking up a lot of Snape's free time. That's why he hadn't told the man about Umbridge in the first place. If that, too, had become part of Snape's daily things to deal with, the man might have just decided that enough was enough and thrown Harry at some other adult. McGonagall, most likely. And he didn't want that. Even if Snape was surly, sarcastic and sometimes downright cruel, he was the only person who had willingly taken him in. He hadn't even given it that much thought, really. Even if he had just sent Harry to 'his room', it was only done because Harry had acted up. There hadn't been any beatings or any denial of food. No, just detention and an early bedtime. Ron would get punished like that as well. Well, not with detentions, of course, but still. Hermione, if she ever acted out, would probably get punished like this too. Not that she ever would.

And where Harry would normally feel unwanted and hated when he was sent to his room by the Dursleys, he was now feeling not much more than guilt. He wished he hadn't said those things. He wished he hadn't taken Snape for granted so much. He wished, more than anything, that he would have just kept his frustrations to himself. If he had, they would be in the middle of a Legilimency lesson right about now which they would soon follow up with tea and biscuits. But no, Harry just had to go insult the man who had been there for him since he had come to the Dursleys. _Really_ been there for him. And Harry had all but spat in his face.

_Why? Why do I have to keep provoking people like that? Something's really wrong with me._

Harry lay down on his bed and buried his head underneath his pillow. If he had a time turner right about now, he could just go back and kick past Harry in the shins before he said something stupid. Time-space continuum be damned.

_Mr Potter._ Would Snape keep calling him that from now on? Would the man try and keep his distance now that he realised just how much of a brat Harry really was? Even if he was nothing like his father. Would the man stop trying to help him find another home before the school year was over? Would Harry go back to the Dursleys and be forgotten about? Again?

He didn't want to go home. Harry scoffed at himself. Home. What a dreadfully wrong word that was. The Dursley's house was as much a home to him as was Mrs Figg's place. In fact, Mrs Figg's was probably more of a home than his actual home because at least there, he was given food and was never beaten. Not even once.

Harry smiled bitterly into his mattress. It was odd how he could be thinking about the definition of home after having been punished like this. Why was he contemplating his family's worth _now_? Surely, Snape's – somewhat justified – anger should have him wishing to be somewhere else right now. But that wasn't the case. He didn't _want_ to go to McGonagall. He didn't want to go to the Dursleys or even Mrs Fig. He was safe here. And he learned all sorts of neat things. He was being taken care of. And even if that had taken some getting used to, it was something that he would now miss severely if it was taken away from him.

Aunt Petunia – no – Petunia was not his family. Related by blood or not, she wasn't. Nor were Vernon and Dudley. They were very loud background noise in his life. They were fragments that he'd much rather forget and replace with… someone else.

Harry realised that his thinking was chaotic and tried to shut it down. Hiding behind his Occlumency shields and the comfort of his warm bedding, he soon fell into a restless sleep. He didn't even realise that the snowstorm that was part of his Occlumency shield had turned into rain.

* * *

When Harry next woke, it was because of the loud voice he recognised to be Dumbledores. The man seemed in an awful panic. Harry guessed that it was probably morning. Not sure if he was allowed to leave his room without Snape's consent, Harry snuck towards his door and pressed his ear against it, wondering what the headmaster could probably be so loud about.

"Severus, I cannot understand why you are so calm about this!" Dumbledore exclaimed.

"All is not lost, Albus," Snape said calmly. "There are other options, as you well know. In fact, I see this as a blessing."

"You know very well that it's not," Dumbledore replied. "I want to know what brought this on!"

"Your guess is as good as mine," Snape said evenly. "This turn of events may be to my personal liking, but I am not powerful enough a wizard to do this. And I feel that I must remind you that you aren't either."

"I never meant to accuse you of sabotage, Severus," Dumbledore said wearily. "I apologise."

"Is there any hope of restoration?" Snape asked.

"None," Dumbledore said after a brief pause. "Other arrangements will have to be made."

"Albus," Snape said, his voice calm and reasonable. "You need not be so distraught about this. There are alternatives. Some of them only mildly less powerful."

"I have to say, Severus, that you're taking Harry's removal much easier than I had imagined." Dumbledore then said.

Harry all but felt his heart jump into his throat.

"Things have changed recently, Albus," Snape replied. "I'm sure that needs no further explanation."

A sigh. "It is most regrettable," Dumbledore said. "Most regrettable indeed."

"He'll live," Snape said easily.

Harry bit his lip in fear of making some sort of unwanted noise. He knew it! He had grated on Snape's last nerve and now he wanted Harry gone! Dumbledore was probably going to place him with McGonagall and tell her everything. Well, Harry was not going to show the man that this was getting to him. Oh no. He would pretend to be the stubborn Gryffindor he often pretended to be, uncaring about anything the potions master thought of him. Because he didn't care. He didn't!

Silently, he sat at his desk until he heard the distinguishable 'woosh' of the floo. Dumbledore was gone. But Harry still didn't know if he was allowed to leave the room so he silently continued to browse the book he had grabbed. He didn't even know what subject he had randomly chosen for the words didn't permeate his thought barrier.

When Snape opened the door, he didn't even knock first. Harry immediately stood at the ready as he waited for Snape's verdict.

"It is time for breakfast," Snape announced. He handed Harry his wand and motioned towards the fireplace. "Get to the Gryffindor common room. I will see you tonight after dinner. Meet me in the entryway."

Harry frowned. He desperately wanted to ask what he was supposed to do now. Was he supposed to come back here after his detention? Snape would probably tell him then but Harry didn't know if he could wait that long to be rejected.

But he couldn't let on that he cared too much so instead he nodded and replied with a short "Yes, Professor" before heading off by means of the floo. The cold look in Snape's eyes was one he had hoped to never see aimed at him again.

* * *

As always happened when Harry was stressed about something, his appetite disappeared just like that. Hermione forced him to take at least a few bites of the stew on his place for dinner but even that was enough to make Harry feel slightly queasy.

"It'll be alright, Harry," Hermione said. "At least it's not a detention with Umbridge, right? I'm sure it won't be so bad."

She had a point there but it wasn't the actual detention Harry was worried about. "I think he's really mad at me again," he told her in reply. "I bet that he's glaring daggers at me right now."

"Not really," Ron said. "He's talking to Dumbledore. He seems to be pleased about something."

"Probably looking forward to making me gut toads," Harry said but there was not a lot of feeling behind his mutterings. He knew, after all, that he deserved this detention.

"That might explain Umbridge's face," Ron chuckled. "She seems absolutely peeved about something."

"Doesn't she always?" Hermione hissed. "I think it's because she's not getting nearly enough students to sign up for her inquisitorial squad. Serves her right, if you ask me. Most of us stand together, no matter what house we're from."

"I'll admit that I would have thought more Slytherins would have signed up," Ron said. "What has she got now? Five or six people?"

"If that," Hermione said. "Do you think Snape has something to do with it?"

"No," Harry said. "If he did, none of the Slytherins would have signed up. It's probably some sort of internal power struggle or something."

"That does sound very Slytherin," Ron admitted.

"Ron!" Hermione chided.

"What? It's true, isn't it?"

When Harry saw Snape get up from the table and walk out of the great hall, Harry was about ready to scoop up some more food to push around on his plate. He was not looking forward to this at all.

"Harry," Hermione said soothingly. "I'm sure it'll be alright. Just go with him."

"If he does something, you can always tell Sirius," Ron offered.

Harry sighed. "Sounds like a plan," he replied. Finally finding the courage to face the music, Harry left his seat and walked after Snape, realising that he was walking just a bit slower than he normally would. This evening was going to end badly for him and he knew it.

"Are you ready?" Snape asked evenly when Harry approached him. He was wearing a travelling cloak and a belt stuffed with all kinds of empty vials. Harry wondered what the plan was but decided not to ask.

"Yes, Professor," he said as politely as he could.

Snape eyed him critically for one more moment before opening the heavy door that led outside. "Good," he said. "Because we are heading into the forbidden forest."

* * *

_I know, I know. It's sort of a cliffhanger. Forgive me! And remember that Tuesday is not that far away. Please leave me a review ;)_


	30. Chapter 30

_Thank you all soooo much for your reviews. I rarely get as many as I did for the last two and I really appreciate it. Sorry for the cliffhanger. I hope you'll like this next part!_

* * *

**Chapter 30**

"The forbidden forest?" Harry dared ask. To say that he was perplexed was an understatement. Had Snape forgotten what had happened during Harry's first year?

"Don't give me that look," Snape said. "Contrary to your first year, it isn't even dark yet. Furthermore, we will not be venturing deeply inside. The things I require can be found near the edge of the forest just as well."

Wondering if Snape had, once again, replied to Harry's thoughts or if this was just him and his keen observation skills, Harry lowered his head in submission. He was not about to start another fight with Snape. He'd probably ruined everything already and was not about to make that a certainty. "Yes, Professor," came his uninspired response.

On the way to the forest, Harry did his very best to Occlude. He didn't want Snape to sense his panic or read his stray thoughts. If the man was to be done with Harry, it would be best if he didn't find out just how much that hurt. So he cleared his mind and didn't say a word. Snape didn't speak either. It made the journey for a tense and long one.

When they reached the edge of the forest, Snape finally spoke up about what he wanted. "I require mushrooms," he said easily. "There are many different kinds that litter these grounds so I suspect that you won't have much trouble finding them." He handed Harry a large satchel and nodded curtly. "Get to work."

"Yes, sir," Harry said. Snape didn't sound too angry. He was strict, sure, but no more than McGonagall would be if one of her Gryffindors acted up. Not at all like Snape might have acted last year. Maybe Harry hadn't ruined everything just yet. For now, he just started gathering. At least it was nicer being outside like this than to be scrubbing cauldrons in the dungeons.

While Harry foraged, he noticed that Snape was staying quite close as he searched the trees for shimmering moss. Maybe he didn't entirely trust the safety of the tree lines after all. Not willing to spare that idea too much thought, Harry kept on picking every kind of mushroom he came across. To spare his back, he was already on his knees, not minding too much that his robes and trousers were getting dirty. The satchel he was carrying could hold a whole lot of mushrooms and Harry hadn't even filled it up a third of the way when he came across a new patch of mushrooms, all pale green in colour with white gills and a white stem. Just as Harry was about to pick the first one, out of nowhere Snape seized his hand to stop him.

Somewhat spooked, Harry looked up at the dark man who looked positively livid. "Wha-"

"If a dunderhead such as yourself can't identify which mushrooms are or aren't poisonous, you'd best stay away from them entirely," Snape growled.

"I wasn't about to eat it!" Harry exclaimed, frowning at Snape's unnecessary interference.

"Honestly, Potter, I would expect you to know by now that the toxins of mushrooms are capable of travelling through the skin. Pick enough of them and you'd be vomiting all over the forest floor before long."

Harry did his very best to Occlude. He didn't want the thought that Snape should have told him that beforehand, to reach the potions master.

"I didn't know," Harry said plainly.

"In that case I suggest you take another good look at your herbology text," Snape said. "In the meantime, I will not allow you to gather any more mushrooms. I will take over. Hand me your satchel."

Harry reluctantly did as he was asked. "Then what will I do in the meantime?"

"You will be removing the shimmering moss from these trees," Snape said as he gestured towards the many trees behind him. He handed Harry another satchel that was already filled up quite a lot. And so they switched jobs. Snape started picking various mushrooms, leaving some species alone entirely and Harry started checking every inch of every tree for moss. It took him quite long to be done with one tree and wondered how Snape had been able to check those he had so quickly. He found out why when Snape made another snide comment about his work.

"Don't be an idiot, Potter. Moss only grows on the north side of the tree," he said evenly without even looking at Harry. Harry had to resist the urge to start throwing things at Snape.

"How am _I_ supposed to know that?" he asked. "It's not as if I was ever lost in the woods with a need to navigate my way out."

"Reading your herbology text would, once again, have provided you with that information," Snape replied coldly. "At the very least you're not in danger of poisoning yourself, this time. All you're doing is wasting your own time."

"I'm in detention, anyway," Harry mumbled.

Snape sighed in exasperation. "Merlin save me from stubborn Gryffindors. Have you any idea what I would have done to any other student that had spoken to me in the way that you have last night?"

Taken aback, Harry turned fully to stare at Snape. "Well, you don't exactly have the option to throw any of the other students out of your chambers, do you?"

Snape glanced at Harry, obvious confusion on his face. "What are you talking about?"

The red hue of the approaching sunset was starting to colour the skies, painting everything in a warm light that Harry felt did not suit the occasion. "I heard you talking to Dumbledore this morning. I know you're kicking me out."

Snape slowly got up, leaving his satchel on the ground and stood to face Harry. The fierce expression on his face almost made Harry take a step back but he stood his ground.

"I don't know what it is you think you've heard," Snape said quietly, "but I assure you that I am not – as you put it – kicking you out. In fact, under no circumstances am I allowing you to go back to the tower."

"But Dumbledore said that I would need to be removed!" Harry sputtered. "He said that you were happy about it! And you agreed!"

"If you had any sense of cunning in you, you would have attempted getting the entire message," Snape said gruffly. "Defining a situation by means of half a relayed message can ruin someone, though in your case it needn't go that far."

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked desperately. "If that's not what you were saying than what was it?"

"We were discussing your relatives," Snape replied steadily.

Harry opened and closed his mouth a few times but words wouldn't come out. It was all for the better, really, since he didn't know what to say to that anyway.

"Something happened," Snape continued. "The wards around the Dursley household have fallen. They are gone."

Harry frowned and shifted nervously on his feet. "What? But how can that – why would that happen? Is it something to do with Voldemort?"

"Unlikely," Snape replied. "The Dark Lord is not able to breach those wards. Nor is the headmaster. The only way those wards could have fallen is if your aunt suddenly died or –" Snape suddenly grinned rather devilishly. As if he knew something that Harry didn't, which was most likely true.

"Is she dead, then?" Harry asked coldly. "Judging by the look on your face, I'd guess not."

"Unfortunately not," Snape replied. "But we'll see how long that lasts. No, I believe that the wards have fallen because of you."

Harry suddenly raised his hands in defence. "Hey, I didn't do anything. I didn't even have my wand, remember?"

"No," Snape agreed. "You didn't. But what you did have was time. Lots of it, as well. Time and a new perspective. The headmaster once explained to me that, for the wards to work, you need to consider the Dursley household your home."

That's when a realisation suddenly struck Harry. "Right!" he said. "He told me the same thing. Sort of." He looked at the satchel in his hands, just to give his eyes something to focus on and thought about it. "I _was_ thinking about the Dursleys last night. And I guess I might have considered that they're not my family. And that my home isn't there."

Snape nodded. "I suspected as much," he said. "What the headmaster and I discussed was where we ought to place you now. You'll need new wards to protect you, obviously, though they'll never be as safe as the blood wards were. Be that as it may, those wards were not worth the price."

_You're telling me._

"So what have you decided?" Harry asked.

"Nothing yet," Snape replied. "And the decision is not up to me. Not in the slightest. I expect that the headmaster will discuss the options with your legal guardian though I doubt that he'll set you up at Grimmauld Place."

"Why?" Harry asked.

"Because Sirius Black is a convicted murderer," Snape replied coldly, not a shred of empathy in his voice. "The ministry would never accept him as your guardian as long as his name isn't cleared."

"Okay, but then who?" Harry asked.

"As I said, no decision has been made at this moment," Snape replied. "But don't worry about that yet. Time is on your side. We will have a solution by the end of the school year."

The sun had nearly vanished entirely, its last rays dipping the edge of the earth in shimmering light. Snape brushed the dirt off his robes and picked up both satchels. "It would appear that we've wasted most of the evening away with conversation," he said. "But no matter. I believe the message has sunk in?"

Harry winced slightly at Snape's choice of words but pretended to brush past a sharp piece of bark as he did so. "Does that mean you're not cross with me anymore?" he asked.

"I am not," Snape said. "I admit that I was peeved at that moment but, on the other hand, it was good to see you behave the way a moody teenager your age is supposed to behave."

"I still want to say I'm sorry," Harry said. "What I said was uncalled for and I didn't mean it. You've been really good to me and it wasn't fair of me to act up like that."

"You are forgiven," Snape said easily.

The sun was now gone entirely and the crescent moon provided the only light that was left in the dark night.

"Does that mean you'll call me 'Harry' again?" Harry asked.

Dark eyes turned to Harry and a hint of a smile was only barely visible. "Let's go back, Harry."

* * *

Harry stood facing a rather dilapidated shack covered by an array of twisty, dead trees. It looked like a house not even fit for a house-elf. Harry felt nothing but disgust when he saw the shack and didn't feel eager to go back in there after all those years. But he had to. This was integral to his plans. The woods surrounding the shack were so thick that no light was able to reach it. Nagini was slithering close behind Harry, hissing her disapproval of being here. Harry shared that sentiment.

"We won't be here for long," he hissed to the snake. "But stay close, Nagini."

Nagini hissed her consent. "Yes, master."

Harry opened the door. It all but fell off its hinges, the wood rotten to its very core. A cloud of dust stirred as Harry stepped over the threshold. The insides of the shack were a horrible mess. Pots and pans were littered throughout what once was the kitchen and mould had grown on things that had probably once been food. Harry wrinkled his nose in disgust and loathing.

"Move, Nagini," he hissed. The snake was right on top of the floorboards that were hiding his treasure. As soon as Nagini had removed herself, Harry waved his wand with ease, obliterating the floorboards and revealing a little golden box that he had hidden there a lifetime ago. He carefully removed the traps and spells he had woven into the box himself before opening it and coming face to face with a ring. Even though he had expected it to be here, he still felt relieved to see it whole and safe. It couldn't stay here, anymore. No, he would need it very soon.

He slipped the ring onto his finger and motioned for Nagini to follow him out. He didn't want to stay in this deplorable shack for even one more second. In fact, he was quite sick of its existence altogether. Nagini curled herself around Harry's left leg once they were a few feet away from the shack. Harry raised his wand and flicked it callously, ignoring the disappointment that was linked to this wooden refuge. It caught fire immediately, the dry wood not able to put up any resistance to Harry's powerful flames. It didn't take long at all for the roof to collapse in the middle and soon, even the surrounding trees were starting to catch fire. In a sense, it was satisfying to watch. Harry smiled and looked down at Nagini who was coiling contentedly.

"Let us return," he said. And he disapparated away, feeling just a bit closer to his goal as he felt the cold metal of the ring fit snuggly around his finger. One down. Three to go.

* * *

Harry woke up screaming this time. But not because his scar was hurting. He looked at his right hand, focusing on the same finger Voldemort had put the ring on. It didn't look hurt or damaged in any way but was burning painfully. Almost as if he had dipped it into hot oil.

He didn't get long to contemplate this because soon after he woke up, the door to his bedroom flung open. Snape spelled the lights on immediately and looked at Harry with fierce eyes that scanned his scar as soon as the lights were on. When he didn't see anything amiss, he frowned and looked at Harry.

"What happened?" he asked. "Was it a nightmare?"

"No," Harry said, still breathing heavily. He felt sweat drip down his neck and shivered involuntarily. "It was a vision, I think. I saw Voldemort. He was after a ring." He rubbed his finger as if to make sure that it was still really there but he didn't feel anything amiss either. The burning sensation was slowly dissipating.

"A ring?" Snape asked. "You are certain this was not just a nightmare?"

"I know what a nightmare feels like!" Harry snapped irritably. "This was not it."

"Calm yourself," Snape said. "I shall call for the headmaster immediately."

"You're calling him down here?" Harry asked as Snape turned. "Shouldn't we go to him?"

"I'd rather not drag you from one part of the castle to another if I can help it," Snape said. "Since he is the only one of the required gathering that is missing, I think it's only logical that we ask him to come down here. Unless you'd rather he didn't?"

"No," Harry said immediately. "No, that's fine. Thank you."

Snape nodded curtly and stalked out of Harry's bedroom and towards the floo. Harry had to admit that he appreciated the gesture. Before, he was always dragged up to Dumbledore's office no matter how rotten he felt. He knew, of course, that it was important to get the correct information to Dumbledore as soon as possible but he had never even considered that the man could just as easily come to him. And, sure, in Gryffindor tower that wasn't exactly an option but in here? Yes, Harry did appreciate it and his wobbly legs agreed with him.

That said, he still didn't want Dumbledore to come in while he was still in bed, half-asleep and disoriented. So he swung his legs over the edge and carefully got up. He walked into the sitting room to find Snape talking to Dumbledore through the floo.

"Step aside, Severus," came Dumbledore's disembodied voice. "I'll be right there."

Snape glanced at Harry as he moved over to his favourite spot on the sofa but said nothing. As Harry sat down, Dumbledore came through looking as flamboyant as ever. Though he was clad in sleeping attire, he didn't look as if he had only just woken up. Shooting stars were circling his nightcap and darkened clouds moved across his robes, occasionally allowing a stitched on moon to reveal itself. His slippers were blue and sported white cotton balls on the curly tips.

_Was he seriously wearing that when Snape called him or did he just think it'd be fun to dress up?_

Snape snorted but tried to hide his amusement as a cough. Dumbledore didn't seem to notice. His blue eyes searched for Harry's automatically but he stopped himself from meeting Harry's gaze in the end. Instead, he focused on a spot right above Harry's left shoulder.

"Harry," Dumbledore said jovially. "Severus told me that you had another vision."

"Yes," Harry said curtly. When Snape glared at him, he added a quick 'Professor'.

Dumbledore sat down in Snape's favourite chair. For some reason, that annoyed Harry a bit. "Could you tell us what exactly happened in this vision?"

"It was the same as always," Harry said, already used to talking to these two men about his night-time mysteries. "I was looking through Voldemort's eyes as if I was him. Nagini was with him. He went to a very old, shabby-looking shack."

"A shack?" Dumbledore asked. "And where was this?"

Harry shook his head. "I don't know. It seemed to be in the middle of a forest or something and looked very old. No one lived there anymore and it looked as if it hasn't been lived in for many years."

"Why did he go there?" Snape asked.

"He wanted a ring," Harry replied. "A ring that was hidden underneath the floorboards." That scene had sparked a sense of familiarity in Harry, even if a very warped one. "It was protected by spells but Voldemort knew they were there and got rid of them. He was the one who put them there."

Harry noticed a sense of urgency flickering in Dumbledore's eyes and focused his attention on the wizened wizard. He seemed to have an idea of what was going on whereas Snape either didn't have a clue or was schooling his expression masterfully. Either one could be true.

"Harry, this is very important," Dumbledore said. "What did this ring look like?"

"The ring itself was a golden band," Harry said, remembering the burn on his finger quite clearly as he recalled the piece of jewellery. "It was inset with a black stone that was inscribed with some sort of coat of arms or something."

Dumbledore glanced fleetingly at Snape but looked away too quickly for any communication to happen between the two wizards.

"Would you be able to describe this coat of arms if I asked you to?" Dumbledore asked. His voice was cold and serious as if he had never asked anything more important of Harry.

"Yes," Harry said easily. He knew for sure that he could. The image almost seemed to be ingrained in his mind. "The outline was a triangle with a circle in it that touched the lines of its base. And then there's a line that goes from the top of the triangle to the bottom."

Dumbledore became pensive, much to Snape's annoyance.

"What does it mean, Albus?" he asked. "You clearly recognise the symbol. What does it have to do with the Dark Lord?"

"It was his ring, Severus," Dumbledore said. "He wore it throughout his school years here. I would recognise it anywhere."

"If that is so, why would he have hidden it in some old shack in the middle of nowhere?" Snape demanded.

"While I have my suspicions, I would rather keep them to myself for now," Dumbledore replied. "At least until I can verify the truth behind them. Surely, you can understand?"

"Albus…" Snape said.

"For now, I must ask that neither of you speaks of this to anyone," Dumbledore said strictly. "I expect your solemn promise."

"Would you like an unbreakable vow, Headmaster?" Snape asked sardonically.

"Your word will suffice," Dumbledore replied. "I know its worth."

That seemed to knock the irritability right out of Snape. He reverted back to his calm self and nodded solemnly. "Of course you have my word," he said. "As always."

"I won't tell anyone either, Professor," Harry said. "But you'll tell me what's going on when you figure it out, right?"

Dumbledore scrutinised him for a moment before breathing a long-suffering sigh. "I expect that it would not be wise to keep you in the dark any longer, my boy," he said. "You are, after all, the one who can see these things through Voldemort's eyes. And I can appreciate the idea of reciprocity." He smiled. "Very well. You will know when I do. You both will."

Harry had to admit that he hadn't expected that reply. Even if he had practically demanded it. "Thank you, Professor," he replied, still honestly perplexed.

Dumbledore nodded kindly. "Thank you both for being so vigilant and observant. I will take my leave now seeing how we have the better part of the night still ahead of us. Sleep well."

Snape nodded and remained rigid until Dumbledore had gone. Harry wondered if Snape was used to entertaining Dumbledore so often and imagined that his presence probably had a lot to do with it.

"Will you be able to sleep?" Snape asked. "Or do you require a potion?"

As if to answer his question, Harry suddenly had to stifle a yawn. "I don't need a potion," he said. "But thanks for offering."

"I require no thanks for such basic offerings," Snape replied easily. "Go on then. I wouldn't want you falling asleep in class again."

Harry shuddered inwardly. No, he wouldn't like that either.

Harry was about to retreat to his room when he looked back at Snape.

"Sir?" he asked.

"Yes?"

"You don't know what Voldemort is up to, do you?" Harry asked carefully.

Snape fixed him with a blank stare. "The Dark Lord shares only the information that he deems necessary. You witnessed what he asked of me. I know no more than that. Do you suspect me of lying?"

"No!" Harry said urgently. "Not at all! No, the reason I'm asking is that I was thinking…"

"Dangerous, but go ahead," Snape quipped.

Harry glared mildly. "I was thinking that blocking out Voldemort with Occlumency might be a bad idea if I can get information this way."

"Harry –"

"No, hear me out," Harry interjected hastily. "I know that you think it's dangerous but so is what _you're_ doing. I can't stand the fact that he has returned, you know? And no one even believes it. He'll be able to hurt so many people before the ministry even takes action. You know he will!"

"Be that as it may, it has nothing to do with you," Snape replied, though his tone betrayed uncertainty. Harry latched onto that.

"It has _everything_ to do with me!" he exclaimed. "Not a year goes by that something doesn't happen involving _him_. Something to do with me. Somehow we seem to be… almost drawn to each other." Harry sighed. "That sounds stupid, doesn't it?"

Snape's lips were pursed together until they were a thin line. His gaze held calculation and Harry wondered what, exactly, he was figuring out.

"What?" he asked.

"You might not be wrong about that," Snape finally replied, his voice nearly a whisper.

Harry frowned. "What do you mean?"

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering something under his breath that sounded remarkably like 'old fools'.

"Professor," Harry urged. "Please. If it's something to do with me, tell me. I have a right to know."

Snape sighed. "I would argue that you have a right _not_ to know," he said roughly. "But I know you and you will not let this go, will you?"

Harry thought about it. "I… I don't think so, no," he said honestly.

"No, I thought not," Snape replied. "Very well. It would appear that our evening has not come to an end yet. Take a seat." As Harry did as he was told, Snape poured himself a glass of fire whiskey.

Snape started talking with his back still turned towards Harry. "I only know half of it, but there is a prophecy that links you to the Dark Lord."

Harry frowned. While divination never struck him as particularly foolproof, he remembered that eerie prediction Trelawney had made in his third year. It had definitely rung true. "A real one?"

"The Dark Lord would not act on a false prophecy," Snape replied. "Unfortunately, finding out about this one made him target you."

Harry felt his throat tighten. Voldemort attacked his parents that night because of a simple prophecy? Why?

_What could it possibly have said that would be important enough to come looking for me?_

Snape downed his glass in one go and turned to face Harry completely. "born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not…"

Harry sat in silence, waiting for Snape to continue but the man didn't. "That's it?" he asked softly.

"No," Snape replied. "That's the half I know. The headmaster is the only one who knows the rest of it."

"This doesn't make any sense!" Harry said. "That prophecy could have been about anyone. Why me?"

"There was only one other likely candidate," Snape replied evenly. "And that was Neville Longbottom. It is unfortunate that the Dark Lord ended up choosing you."

Harry snorted. "Why would he choose at all?" he said bitterly. "Why wouldn't he take out all families that he suspected stood in his way? He doesn't strike me as the type to hold back."

Snape frowned. "He might have," he replied. "If he hadn't met his downfall when coming after you, first."

"Power the Dark Lord knows not," Harry repeated blandly. "Ridiculous. I bet that the only thing I can cast that he can't is the Patronus charm."

Snape nodded. "When it comes to spells, you are likely correct," he said. "But there is more to life than that."

Harry chuckled bitterly. "Such as?" he asked.

"Unfortunately, I am not the right person to ask," Snape said. Harry thought that he seemed very uneasy about the whole thing. "If you wish to discuss this more, I suggest that you seek out the headmaster."

"I'll… think about it," Harry replied.

"He wants what's best for you, Harry," Snape said. "But sometimes, even _he_ does not understand what can truly hurt someone. You must forgive him his humanity."

"I do forgive him," Harry said, surprised to realise that that was true. "I just don't entirely trust him yet."

"Perhaps it will help you to know that I do," Snape replied. "I trust no one more. Now, I do believe that it is truly past your bedtime. Go on."

"What about Occluding?" Harry asked. He'd nearly forgotten about his initial concern.

"It is of no matter now," Snape said. "Since you clearly can't keep the Dark Lord out just yet. But I will discuss it with the headmaster."

Harry smiled. "Thank you," he said. "Good night."

"Good night," said Snape.

* * *

It finally happened again when Harry was going to the loo right after lunch. It hadn't happened for a while and Harry had almost begun to believe that the link he had established with Snape had stopped any further blackouts. And yet, here it was.

As always, he was frozen for a moment, helplessly looking around the bathroom for any help, even though he knew there was no one. Shouting didn't work. It never had before so he didn't know why he even tried. He tried occluding. He tried desperately to erect his walls but he didn't seem to have access to them. He tried sending out thoughts to Snape but knew that the man was too far away for those to reach him anyway. He could only hope that the link would work as intended and that Snape would find him before anything bad could happen.

The poisonous, filthy presence of the other was overtaking him as quickly as it did last time. But once again, Harry was aware yet trapped within his own mind. There was no way to pinpoint the exact place where the presence was residing and even if there was, Harry very much doubted that he'd be able to push it out. Not for lack of trying, though.

_Get out! What are you doing to me?_

There was only cold silence to answer him.

And then, for the briefest of moments, Harry could feel the touch of a familiar mind. He recognised the lukewarm sensation of the painted waters he had come to know as Snape's and for a split second, he felt safe. And then, it was gone again, pushed further and further away until Harry wasn't even sure anymore that the presence had been there in the first place. If it had been there only to suddenly disappear, Harry could only hope that he wasn't the cause. Somehow, that thought scared him more than anything right now.

Trapped in the darkness, Harry had no choice but to wait it out. He lost himself in meditation.

_Drip… drip._

Oh, how he hated the monotonous sound of the dripping water. Even if this was his own mindscape, being here for what had to be hours now, was excruciatingly boring. He wished that he had a way to fight back. But he didn't.

_Drip_.

All he could do was wait for the surrounding darkness to dissipate so he could find out who had disappeared this time.

_Drip… drip… drip._

How much time had passed? Had it taken this long last time? Harry didn't think so. But just when he thought he was starting to lose it, the poisonous presence left him, allowing the darkness in his mind to recede. He welcomed the light but was scared to find out what had happened.

He blinked a few times to get used to the lights and was finally able to focus on the outline of his potions professor. Two hands firmly grasped his upper arms and seemed to be shaking him. When Harry finally met the obsidian gaze of Snape, the hands released him and a flicker of relief crossed the otherwise steely gaze.

Harry frowned when he recognised his surroundings as a bathroom. So he hadn't left? Maybe that meant nothing had happened. Maybe everyone was safe now. He only barely registered that his robes were, once again, wet and dirty. He wanted to ignore that. Because that would make his hopes false.

"Harry," Snape said urgently. "Are you back?"

"Yes," Harry said, his throat resisting slightly as if he had been asleep. "What happened?"

"I wish I knew," Snape said. "I nearly caught up with you when you went down there."

Harry bit his lower lip. "Down where?" he asked carefully, already aware of the answer.

Snape gestured towards the sink behind Harry. "Down into the Chamber of Secrets."

* * *

_I didn't really mean to write another cliffhanger but here we are. Hahaha. The next chapter is a very fun one so I hope you'll look forward to it. Until then, please leave a review._


	31. Chapter 31

_You guys are the absolute best! As always, thanks a bunch for all the reviews. I'm so excited to share this next chapter with you so I hope you'll all like it._

* * *

**Chapter 31**

Harry turned his head a bit to see that he was, indeed, standing before the sink that concealed the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets. If the muddy footprints starting at its base weren't enough of an indication, the little snake concealed in the tap sure was.

"What was I doing there?" Harry asked, as much to himself as to Snape. "How long was I in there? Did I hurt anyone?"

"I was notified from the moment your mind was compromised," Snape said. "I reached you only a few minutes later. At that point, you hadn't been in contact with anyone yet. I attempted to breach your mind to assist you but I was… unsuccessful."

The look in Snape's eyes revealed that there was more to the story than he let on. "Why?" Harry asked. "What went wrong?"

"Let's just say that your magical core is quite strong for someone your age," Snape said dismissively. "It is truly of no consequence. In any event, you went straight up to the second floor. I followed you from a short distance only to see you opening the entrance that is, right now, behind you. Unfortunately, I was too far away to be able to follow you down before the entrance closed. You haven't emerged from it until now."

Harry's face lit up. "So there were no disappearances?" he asked.

Snape shook his head. "I cannot say," he said. "I've been here the entire time. Many hours have passed and I haven't been filled in about the current events."

Harry glanced over his shoulder again. The mirror showed him just how dirty his face was. "I have to go back down there," he said, expecting Snape's resistance.

But Snape surprised him. "I agree," he said. "If there are, indeed, students down there, I can't afford to waste any time in locating them. But, unfortunately for both of us, I am unable to speak Parseltongue and will, therefore, require your assistance."

"Or, in other words, good idea. I'll come with you," Harry replied.

"Don't get cheeky," Snape said. "Before we go down there, are you hurt in any way?"

"Me?" Harry asked in disbelief. "No, of course not! The most I get from these random journeys into, apparently, the Chamber of bloody Secrets is a scrape here and there. Come on, we have to go."

"Very well," Snape then said. "Open the entryway, if you will."

Harry turned around, ignoring the muddied boy in the mirror, and stared at the tiny snake concealed in the tap. "Open," he hissed and immediately knew that that had been Parseltongue when the stones reassembled themselves to allow for a passageway to appear.

"Right," Harry said. "I'll go first."

And without hesitation, Harry jumped into the pipe, ignoring the profanity that emerged from Snape the moment he followed through. The man was clearly not used to leaping straight into the darkness but there was nothing for it.

When Harry reached the bottom, he immediately scrambled out of the way to make room for Snape's landing. It was a bit disappointing to find that the man did not, in fact, ride the slide as anyone else would have. No, instead he had the audacity to actually float, somehow. Riding the air just above the slimy ride down. There wasn't even a smudge on him when he finally landed on his feet and he looked decidedly smug.

"Warn me the next time you do such a thing," Snape growled.

"Next time?" Harry asked. "What do you expect me to get into?"

Snape had lit up his wand with a silent Lumos and was now inspecting the walls and ground with it. "Something like this," he said absentmindedly.

Harry didn't exactly want to admit it but he was feeling very nervous. Trying to bait Snape into some shallow banter was clearly not working even if Harry expected that it would have done wonders for his currently frayed nerves. He didn't want to be here. Of course, he needed to save the students if it turned out they were here! That went without saying. But that didn't mean he had to like being confronted with what he had done. If they were here, that _would_ mean that Harry was behind all of this. After all, no one else was able to open the Chamber.

"Come on," Snape said when he was done inspecting this first room. With his wand kept alight, he proceeded into the hallway as his steps echoed loudly. Every now and then, Harry could see a rat scampering away just before the light revealed it.

"Honestly, what was a twelve-year-old child even thinking coming down here?" Snape muttered. "Every bit of this place screams foreboding."

"We had a teacher with us," Harry said.

"Right," Snape replied evenly. "I had forgotten that your plunge into the deep was preceded by you detaining your Defence against the Dark Arts professor and forcing him to take said plunge with you."

"Not exactly _with_," Harry said. "We made him go first."

Snape scoffed. "At least that was _one_ clever thing you did that day."

"Hey!" Harry protested. "I ended up winning, you know?"

"I realise as much," Snape said. "And I didn't say I doubted your competence nor your valour. Both of those traits were clearly present in abundance, even then. But none of your actions that day was to be considered 'clever'."

Harry stared at Snape's back with a modicum of amusement. "Do your sentences get longer depending on how nervous you get?"

"What?" Snape snapped as he glanced over his shoulder. "What are you talking about? That is preposterous. I simply prefer being clear from the first time."

_Right. Definitely nervous._

Snape stopped walking. "Oh, that's just great. Can you explain to me why the ceiling collapsed?"

"Right," Harry said, wondering how he could have forgotten about that. "Lockhart did it when he tried to obliviate us with Ron's broken wand. _He_ caused the ceiling to collapse."

"As well as his own minuscule brain," Snape added. "Understood. How did you get through?"

"There's a hole," Harry said, pointing out the crevice. "Right here. I can still fit."

"That has much to do with your small stature," Snape felt the need to point out. "But I fear that I will not be able to follow as is. Stand aside."

"What are you going to do?" Harry asked.

"Quote the entirety of Shakespeare's sonnet eighteen," Snape said sardonically. "What do you think I'm going to do? Clear the passage, of course."

"Hey, I'm as unhappy to be here as you are," Harry said. "There's really no need to be so snippy about it."

"There is no need to go hunting basilisks on your own either, yet here we are," Snape replied. "Now I'll ask again. Step aside."

Harry rolled his eyes but did as Snape said. The man waved his wand and immediately, the stones set themselves to the side, allowing for anyone but Hagrid to pass through. A bit envious that he couldn't do such things, Harry huffed but he didn't say anything else. Instead, he followed close behind Snape as the man swept past the rearranged stones as if he had done so a thousand times already.

Harry hated the crunching of the bones beneath his feet. He hated the dripping of the sewage water that would protrude down into these Chambers and he hated the all-encompassing darkness. But more than anything, he hated the memory of his second year and everything that had to do with it.

"Basilisk skin on your left," Harry said evenly as to warn Snape. The first time he had been here, the skin had spooked him for a moment. He wanted to spare Snape that moment of heart-palpitating fear.

"Yes, I'm aware," Snape said.

Harry huffed. Okay, so maybe Snape would recognise a snakeskin to be nothing more than just _that_ on sight. Pardon him for trying to be nice.

"You know," Harry said, trying to distract himself by talking. "I think the missing people might not be down here after all."

"Hmm," Snape hummed in reply.

"Because I don't think Crabbe or Goyle would have fit through that opening," Harry pointed out, even though Snape hadn't asked for an explanation.

"Clearly," Snape said.

"Now you're just making your sentences as short as possible to prove me wrong!" Harry exclaimed.

Snape chuckled dryly. "You know, I do believe that _you_ start babbling when you're nervous."

"I know!" Harry said. "I _am_ nervous."

Snape halted his fast pace and turned to look at Harry. "Harry, it'll be alright," he said. "Even if we find someone here, you know it's not your fault, right?"

"Rationally, yes," Harry said. "But I can't help but feel slightly at fault."

"The headmaster still doesn't think you have anything to do with this," Snape said. "And neither do I. Don't lose heart."

Harry smiled and after a short moment of scrutiny, Snape nodded and walked off again with Harry in tow.

Harry was only able to stay silent for so long, especially now, so he just continued talking. "What about you?"

"What do you mean?" Snape said.

"Was I right?" Harry replied. "_Are_ you nervous?"

"I find myself en route to the Chamber of Secrets," Snape replied. He was still pointing his wand at seemingly random parts of the wall. "The very Chamber built by the founder of my house. It's always been shrouded in mystery and, even now, no one has ever stepped foot inside but a select few. To say that I am … apprehensive would ring true."

Harry chuckled. "If you had wanted to come here, you could have just asked me, you know?"

"Oh, certainly," Snape said sardonically. "I would just go ahead and invite the-boy-who-lived to gallivant around the very chambers in which he nearly died and where we know that at least one basilisk lived. Has anyone ever investigated to see if there are more? Of course not, because how could we have? The headmaster would likely not have taken kindly to the idea of endangering you quite so blatantly. Besides, you and I haven't been on the best of terms."

Harry shrugged which went completely unnoticed by Snape. "I'm okay with it," he said. "But, before you ask, I am not taking your Slytherins in here as some sort of dungeonesque school trip."

"Dungeonesque is not a word," Snape said.

"It is now," Harry said. "Duck your head here. You're too tall for this hallway."

"I suppose I should've stocked op on shrinking solution," Snape said evenly. He bowed his head slightly before moving on.

"So you _don't_ carry just about any potion with you?" Harry asked.

"How many pockets do you even imagine me to have?" Snape asked as he carefully tried to avoid some loose pebbles on the way.

"I expected you to have sewn in a couple of hundred extra," Harry said. Then he realised that Snape was amicably talking to him. "Hey. You're indulging me, aren't you?"

"Am I?" Snape asked.

"Yes!" Harry exclaimed. "You are."

"Are you feeling better?" Snape then asked.

Harry blinked. "Well… yes. I suppose."

"Then I fail to see what you're complaining about."

Harry smiled and was able to stop talking for a full two minutes, simply listening to the sounds of their wet footsteps echoing against the walls.

"You can use long sentences if you want, you know," he then said.

Snape chuckled. "Are you saying that I should recite that sonnet after all?"

Harry snorted. "If that would make you feel better, I think you should go for it."

"I will feel better once I see the corpse of that basilisk," Snape said.

"Oh?" Harry said. "Because you don't believe that I actually killed it, is that it? Are you expecting it to lurk around and wait to eat me in revenge? Because, apparently, I've been down here for a couple of hours and I haven't been digested yet. Unless you think I never left the landing room in the past. I think I did, though, because why else would I have gotten those scrapes before?"

"And you accuse me of pleonasm," Snape said evenly. "As much as every morsel of my being is telling me to, indeed, doubt the story of the twelve-year-old that slew a basilisk using only a sword – a tool which he likely never even held in his life, mind you – but I can't help but believe you in this matter. If it hadn't died then, it likely would have eaten you."

"It sure tried," Harry said as he tried to figure out what pleonasm meant. "And I got the scar to prove it."

"Yet another unlikely event," Snape said, sounding almost appalled. "You get bitten by a fully-grown basilisk and are still able to destroy the fraction of the Dark Lord that was left behind before dying. But oh no, you _don't_ die. Instead, a phoenix – a _phoenix_, Harry – is persuaded to cry on your wound only to fully heal you and rid you of any poison.

"It was luck," Harry said.

"It was ridiculous," Snape scoffed. "A twelve-year-old –"

"You don't have to keep saying that," Harry said, starting to feel a bit embarrassed. "I know how old I was."

"One can only wonder what you would have amounted to had you any _decent_ instructors in your defence class," Snape sighed. "And, perhaps, fencing lessons."

"I don't think that the sword of Gryffindor should be used to fence with," Harry said thoughtfully.

"You'd be the expert," Snape muttered.

The next few moments passed in awkward silence and Harry couldn't help but wonder if he did something wrong.

"Are you mad at me?" he asked.

"Mad?" Snape repeated. "Why? Because you fought off a giant snake, all by yourself while you could have just told any teacher on the premises?"

"I told –"

"Lockhart does not count," Snape said. "And I know that, even then, you realised that."

Harry chuckled. "I promise I won't do it again."

"Battle a basilisk with no one but Lockhart to help you?" Snape said. "No, I think not. No one is _that_ unlucky."

Finally, the hallway opened up into the humongous room of Harry's memories. Torches on the wall lit up magically as the two wizards stepped inside. It was exactly the way Harry had left it, save for the diary that had gone. There were only large ink stains to prove that it had ever been here in the first place. In the middle of the room lay the gargantuan carcass of the basilisk. Harry wondered if it had something to do with the sheer cold that always hung in these chambers but the body had not decayed in the slightest. Harry walked over to it, leaving Snape who had stopped in his tracks and callously kicked the carcass against the head.

"See?" he said. "Dead as a doornail."

"Only a Gryffindor would tap it with his foot to make sure," Snape growled. "Have you no sense of self-preservation?"

"It's coming to me," Harry said absentmindedly. He allowed his gaze to scour the room, looking for anything out of the ordinary. He didn't see proof of any people being or having been here. The quiet here was deafening and the dust had not been unsettled. Harry supposed that even _he_ hadn't come this far whilst in the tangles of a blackout. He kicked the snake again – against his tail this time – just because he could.

"There's no one here, Professor," Harry said. "Only you, me and the basilisk."

Snape frowned. "I don't see any evidence of you having been here, either," he said. "It does make me wonder what you've been doing down here. Could the only purpose have been to hide from me?"

"I think I probably was here the other times as well," Harry said. "My robes always looked the same as they do now. And come to think of it, I did always end up waking up somewhere on the second floor."

"Truly?" Snape asked. "And you never thought to mention that little fact?"

"I just never thought of it that way before," Harry said. "For me, it just seemed entirely ran- what are you doing?"

Snape had kneeled next to the basilisk's head and had pulled a knife and some vials out of his many pockets that Harry still suspected the man had sewn in himself.

"Again with the redundant questions," Snape sighed. "I'm gathering ingredients, of course."

"What, now?" Harry asked, somewhat peeved.

"Do you suppose I should leave it until the next time I happen upon this Chamber?" Snape asked evenly. He was already siphoning some of the basilisk venom as he spoke. "According to my estimates that is likely to occur… oh, well, never."

"I could bring you back here later," Harry said. "What if there is still something dangerous in here?"

"There isn't," Snape said easily. "There is hardly anything in this room behind which a creature could hide itself. Especially when considering that this Chamber is the hiding place of a twelve-foot basilisk. Furthermore, I see no other entrances besides the one we used to come in. do you?"

"Well, there is the one the basilisk used," Harry said.

That stopped Snape's motions entirely. "I beg your pardon?"

Harry pointed at the enormous statue of Salazar Slytherin. "It came through the mouth of that statue," Harry said. "It opens when you use Parseltongue."

"Of course it does," Snape sighed. He corked the vial, put it away and picked up his wand. "Well, it wouldn't do not to investigate that passage as well. Could you open it?"

"I'll try," Harry said. "Though I wasn't the one who opened it last time."

"I should hope not," Snape said. "Even so, I would assume that – much like everything else here – the words of any Parselmouth will make the structures obey."

"Alright," Harry said. "Here goes." He focused his attention on the dead basilisk in front of him. It was still real enough to serve as a substitute snake for Harry to speak to.

"Open," he hissed. But nothing happened. Harry thought about it and tried again. "Speak," he then said, thinking about the motion the statue had made. That did the trick. The mouth opened wide and Harry raised his wand, half-expecting a new basilisk to come slithering out. Snape did the same thing, inching closer to Harry as he kept his wand steady. But nothing came out to attack them. They were only met with the gaping hollow of a tunnel.

"Would it be correct for me to assume that you haven't been in there?" Snape asked.

"Yeah," Harry said. "I was occupied with other things."

Snape became pensive as he stared at the road ahead.

"I know what you're thinking," Harry said. "But I also know that you can't leave me behind. What if you need Parseltongue again?"

"What if there's another basilisk in there?" Snape argued back.

"I could probably take on another one," Harry said with a cheeky smile. "I'm a lot older now."

Snape scoffed. "By three years. My, but how you've grown."

"Look," Harry said. "You know that you might need me. And is it really worth the trouble of going twice? I know how to defend myself."

"You do," Snape said matter-of-factly, glancing at the dead basilisk again. "But if I allow you to come, there will be certain stipulations."

_Oh great, here we go._

"You will do everything I say without question," Snape said. "You will not argue. You will not act out. You will act immediately. If I tell you to run and leave me behind, that is exactly what you will do. Understand?"

Harry glared at him. "Sometimes, you're a real prick you know that?"

"Ten points from Gryffindor," Snape said evenly. "Now, are we in agreement?"

Harry stared at Snape, hoping that the man would see how ridiculous his demand was. But he didn't falter and, in the end, Harry had no choice but to give in. "Fine," he said.

"I need your word," Snape urged.

"You have it," Harry said urgently. "Now can we please go?"

"Yes," Snape said. "For now, you will stay behind me as we progress. And I must insist that you speak as little as possible."

"Fine," Harry agreed. The sooner they left, the better. For now, Harry was just eager to see what else they could find at the end of the tunnel. Could it lead someplace the students were? And if so, how did they not disturb the main chamber in the process? But Harry couldn't linger on those thoughts for too long because Snape was already lifting himself into the hole. After he made it up, he extended his hand for Harry to take which Harry did without contemplation. Snape helped him climb and soon they were on their way yet again.

This tunnel was, unfortunately, not very high. Whilst the basilisk had been a massive beast indeed, the circumference of its body was still not as high as your average human which meant that to get through the tunnel, Snape and Harry needed to sort of half-crouch, half-crawl forward. And this time, Snape did not have a nifty trick that kept him from wading through the dirt and slime as Harry had to.

Harry was still nervous about the whole thing and the fact that he wasn't allowed to talk made his thoughts go just about everywhere. The thing on the forefront of his mind was, obviously, the question of where this tunnel was going. But he was also very worried about the possibility of other students having been taken. Whether or not he had something to do with it, the truth was that it always happened during Harry's blackouts. Well, there was that one time when Harry had merely fallen asleep but… he's never had a blackout without anything else happening at the same time.

The sound of potion vials clinking together as Snape crawled onward was distracting Harry a bit, at least. He wondered what Snape could possibly want basilisk venom for and imagined that it was probably a very rare and costly ingredient. He wanted to ask Snape what exactly had happened when the man had tried to stop him and was vaguely wondering if he was hurt at all. He had asked Harry if he was fine but Harry hadn't reciprocated. And now, without a conversation to keep his mind occupied, he was starting to feel guilty about it.

_Did I hurt you?_

There came no reply from Snape. There wasn't even a change in body language to indicate that Snape had picked up on the thought in the first place.

_Bloody useless, this link. Can't even work when I want it to._

Still nothing. And Harry doubted that Snape was ignoring him. But he had to do something to keep his mind occupied before he became crazy with worry.

_Babbling bumbling band of baboons. Babbling bumbling band of baboons. Babbling bumbling band of baboons._

**Would you stop that?**

Surprised at the sudden intrusion, Harry's palm almost slipped on a loose pebble.

_Oh, so you _could_ hear me!_

**I only picked something up about baboons. And I'd rather I hadn't.**

_Take it up with McGonagall. She's the one that put that phrase in my head._

Snape glanced over his shoulder and Harry could see that the man was sort of annoyed. Whoops.

**Was there something you required?**

_Not really. Just thinking. I have to do something while crawling through a dark tunnel with no end in sight._

**I suggest that you practice your Occlumency. There's truly no better time than the present.**

_I can already do Occlumency._

**Said the boy whose mind has been invaded only recently. You need to learn to do it almost subconsciously. Instantly.**

Harry huffed.

_Fine! I get it. Occlude._

Harry was starting to feel a bit achy from crawling around like that. He could only imagine how sore Snape, who was a great deal taller than him, had to feel. The man was quite a bit older as well. Harry wondered if he was having problems.

But he wasn't about to question his resilience. Snape might reward him with a boot to the face. No, he had to stop thinking and start focusing on his walls.

He envisioned his mindscape. He focused on the snowy mountain; the surrounding glaciers and the falling… rain? When had the snow turned to rain? Was that supposed to happen? Harry filed it away for later. Snape would probably know what was going on. Harry then noticed that the snow he was sitting on was starting to melt, revealing some small patches of grass below. Grass that was bright green and very much alive. It was nice to look at but it was strange. Harry didn't think that Occlumency walls were supposed to change like that. Did Voldemort's intrusion have anything to do with it? Was he changing who Harry was from the inside? That somehow seemed unlikely. Instead of worrying about it now, Harry took Snape's advice to heart and practised on keeping up his walls for as long as possible. Every now and then he would falter and need to start over but the more he did it, the longer his walls stood.

The tunnel was starting to tilt uphill and Harry finally broke away from his practice. This was it. They were almost there. While his hands and knees hurt, he didn't think that they had travelled very far. All Harry knew was that they probably weren't in the castle anymore.

_Hmmm, could you apparate in here, I wonder?_

It was another half an hour until Snape and Harry finally reached what appeared to be the exit. Only, it was sealed by a large, circular stone engraved with snakes. Snape tried pushing it upwards but it was as stuck as Peeves in Hogwarts.

"Harry," Snape said. "Can you open this?"

To be fair, Harry could barely see the stone, let alone see the snakes well enough to be able to speak Parseltongue.

"I can try if you can move a bit," he said.

"And where do you expect me to move to?" Snape hissed.

"I don't know," Harry said. "But I need to see a snake to speak Parseltongue."

"Yes, I did notice that little inconvenience," Snape said. "Well, seeing as there's no other choice… you're not afraid of snakes, are you?"

Harry almost felt insulted. "Of course not," he said.

"Very well." Snape aimed his wand towards the ground and whispered, "Serpensortia." The smallest of snakes erupted from Snape's wand and coiled lazily against the cavern wall.

"That should be of assistance, I expect."

"Yes," Harry said. "Good thinking." He focused his attention on the small snake and hissed, "Open."

The heavy creaking and groaning of stone that wasn't used to moving, told Harry that he had been successful. The circular block slowly turned counter-clockwise until it came to an abrupt halt. Snape tried, once again, to push the stone upwards and this time it gave way.

"Don't come out just yet," Snape hissed softly. "Give me the time to check the area first. Understand?"

Harry only nodded but it was sufficient for Snape who carefully peeked his head through the hole. Then he lifted himself up until even his legs were gone and Harry could do nothing more than wait. He could hear Snape's footsteps crunching the grass outside. And he could hear the sound of birds. There was light at the other end but it was soft and weak. Harry didn't have to wait long but when Snape returned, his expression was one of the utmost dissatisfaction.

"You can come out," he said. "But tread carefully."

Harry carefully checked out the surroundings and noticed that they were in a forest. In a flash of panic, he wondered if this was the forest of his visions but a quick look upward revealed that it wasn't. The forest in his visions had been much denser, not allowing for any light to seep through. This forest – while still thick – had fewer trees and the sunlight still reached the forest floor.

"Where are we?" Harry asked.

"In the forbidden forest," Snape replied softly. "And according to my estimations, we are at its very centre."

"That's not good, is it?" Harry whispered as if scared to rouse the creatures that lurked within.

"It is not, but we have a quick way out of here," Snape replied.

"The tunnel?" Harry asked.

"Apparition," Snape clarified.

"But Hermione says –"

"That you can't apparate on Hogwarts grounds," Snape interjected. "She's quite correct. But this is, technically, not Hogwarts grounds. I should be able to bring us from here to the outer gate."

Harry frowned. "Do you think there's anything going on here?"

Snape shook his head. "No. This is not it. It's clear that no one has been here in a very long time. And definitely no stumbling students who have no idea on how to navigate through a forest without leaving tracks."

"Oh," Harry said, looking around. "I suppose you're right."

"On the off chance that anyone would ever stumble upon this entrance, could you seal the stone in place before we go?"

"Right," Harry said. Snape put the stone back in place and Harry focused on the snake engraved in the stone, ordering it to close up. It twisted clockwise until it stopped again.

"That will do," Snape said. "Now, just grab my arm."

Harry hooked his elbow around Snape's proffered arm and waited somewhat anxiously for the sickening feeling of being pulled through a tube. Of course, it was much preferable to being eaten by Acromantula's so he wasn't about to complain.

They disappeared with a loud bang and reappeared right in front of the castle gates at the exact same spot where Snape had taken Harry the first time they apparated together. Back then, Harry had been very upset with the Dursleys and Snape for meddling while Snape had been trying to force Harry to explain what had happened. It now felt as if that day had happened a lifetime ago and Harry wondered just why things had seemed that bleak back then.

"Ready for another long walk?" Snape asked, sounding as if he could really do without it.

Harry looked towards the castle and nodded. "I promise to behave this time."

Snape snorted and playfully cuffed Harry against the back of his head. "Don't make promises you can't keep."

* * *

_And there you have it, folks. A whole chapter worth of Snape/Harry interaction. I hope you all liked it and I'll be happy to hear from you in the comments. I'll be seeing you on Tuesday._


	32. Chapter 32

_Goodness. More than one person told me the last chapter was a bit anti-climactic. I'm so sorry about that. I never meant to give the wrong impression. But this story is far from over and there are still many things that need to happen before we can move on to the final arch.  
Anyways, thanks for all your reviews and I hope you'll enjoy this chapter more._

* * *

**Chapter 32**

Harry and Snape weren't even able to walk back into the castle before McGonagall came storming out towards them.

"Mr Potter!" she all but screeched. "Where have you been? I've been looking everywhere for you! Your friends are practically hysterical with worry!" She grabbed Harry's arm and started looking him over as if expecting to find a glaringly obvious wound. When she didn't, she turned her attention to Snape who just stood there, his arms crossed defensively.

"And you!" she continued. "You haven't been in to teach your classes! Your house is in complete disarray! You've _never_ missed teaching a class before!"

"I appreciate your concern, Minerva," Snape said evenly. "But I assure you that we are fine."

McGonagall scoffed. "I don't know what you two have been up to but you are to tell me right now!"

"Minerva –"

"Don't you dare fight me on this, Severus," McGonagall hissed. Harry could see her feline attitude shining through as she poked Snape in the chest with her index finger. "Whatever the current situation, Mr Potter is still in Gryffindor. I will not have you doing as you will! Why were you outside?"

"Because we found a tunnel in the Chamber of Secrets," Harry blurted out.

McGonagall seemed completely perplexed. "The Chamber of… I beg your pardon?"

"Oh, well done, Mr Potter," Snape said sardonically. "One has to wonder _how_ you've been able to keep your adventures to yourself all those years."

"Well, you're telling me not to anymore, aren't you?" Harry pointed out.

"Surely, you don't believe I intended for you to throw out every semblance of decorum," Snape replied in annoyance.

Harry threw up his hands in exasperation. "I really don't know what you want from me right now."

"Gentlemen!" McGonagall exclaimed. Both Harry and Snape turned to look at the angry Gryffindor head of house. Snape actually looked a bit sheepish. "What in the world were you doing in the Chamber of Secrets?"

The way McGonagall glared at Snape made Harry think she suspected the potions master to be behind their little escapade.

"It has to do with Mr Potter's visions, Minerva," Snape said evenly. "Following a recent discovery that I'm sure you'll understand is classified, we suspected that some of the students might be down in the chamber. Seeing how Mr Potter is the only one who can open the entryway, as well as the various doors in between, I had no choice but to take him with me."

McGonagall deflated a little bit. Harry only now noticed that the worry had not left her expression yet and he wondered if someone else in Gryffindor had gone missing.

"Did you find anyone?" she asked softly.

Snape shook his head. "Unfortunately, our suspicions were unfounded. It's clear to me that not a single person has stepped foot inside the inner chamber for years. We found a tunnel and decided to follow it only to end up in the middle of the forbidden forest."

"Well, I would appreciate some fair warning next time," McGonagall said, trying to sound strict but somehow failing.

Snape took a step closer to the Animagus. "Minerva," he said. "What has happened?"

McGonagall sighed. "It happened again, Severus," she said. "More disappearances. Five this time."

"Five?" Snape exclaimed. Harry's eyes widened in shock. Five other people had vanished? _Five_? How could that have happened?

"Who?" Harry asked urgently. "Who is it?"

"Two of my Gryffindors are unaccounted for," McGonagall said. "Adam Pickering and Collin Creevey."

Harry clenched his jaw. He didn't know Adam all that well. He had occasionally played a game of chess with the boy because he was more on his level than Ron was, but other than that they rarely spoke. Collin, annoying as the boy sometimes was, he knew well enough. To think that he suddenly wouldn't be there anymore was sort of a blow.

"And the others?" Snape urged. "You said there were five in total."

"One from Ravenclaw," McGonagall replied. "Padma Patil. Her sister is considerably horrified because of this news."

_Poor Parvati._

"Honestly, Minerva," Snape hissed. "This is very much like pulling teeth. The two others?"

"Severus, I'm terribly sorry," McGonagall said. "The others were in Slytherin. "Tom Ackerley and Daphne Greengrass."

Harry's head shot up in horror, catching the defeated look McGonagall was giving Snape. "What?" he said. "Tom's gone? Are you sure? Theo might know where he is."

McGonagall gave him a confused look before replying. "We already asked Mr Nott about Mr Ackerley's whereabouts," she said. "He hasn't seen him since lunch." She put a hand on Harry's shoulder. "I didn't realise you were close."

Harry glanced at Snape who kept his expression carefully neutral. "I just… got to know him a bit this year, that's all."

"Well, I'm sure that he'll be alright," McGonagall said, though Harry could sense that she wasn't convinced of her words, herself.

"Minerva," Snape said. "Are you absolutely certain that these five students have gone?"

"Once we realised what was going on, Albus did a sweep of the castle," McGonagall said. "His magic told us that six students were no longer in the castle. Now that Mr Potter turned up, that leaves five."

"So they could still be outside?" Harry offered.

McGonagall sighed. "I suppose that is an option," she said. "But none of those students are known for skipping classes. It would be odd for any of them to start now. And at the same time, no less."

"Thank you, Minerva," Snape said curtly. "If you'll excuse us, we'll be going now."

"I believe that Mr Potter should come with me," McGonagall said, sounding a bit peeved. "Have I not mentioned that his friends are very distressed?"

"You have," Snape replied. "If you wish to alleviate their concerns, I would propose that you inform them of Mr Potter's safety yourself. Meanwhile, we have information that urgently needs to be passed onto the headmaster."

"I could just go see them real quick," Harry offered.

**Don't argue with me. We haven't the time.**

Harry sighed. "On second thought, that would be irresponsible. Sorry, Professor McGonagall. Tell them I'll see them at dinner, alright?"

McGonagall pinched the bridge of her nose. She appeared very weary to Harry and he couldn't help but feel sorry for her.

"Would you care to stop by later for a cup of tea, Minerva?" Snape asked out of the blue. Harry frowned and looked at him as if he had just grown two extra heads.

McGonagall scoffed. "I thought you didn't want any visitors while you were otherwise…" she glanced at Harry, "occupied."

"It would appear that I have changed my mind," Snape said. "Now, we really should go see the headmaster. I'll see you at eight, Minerva."

Without waiting for her answer, Snape grabbed Harry by the collar of his robes and started dragging him towards the second floor and Dumbledore's office. When Harry glanced over his shoulder, he could see McGonagall shake her head but she did seem a little more cheerful than a few minutes ago.

Snape released Harry and was taking large strides on his way to the office. Harry had to jog to keep up. "So, that was strange," he said, his voice shaking with every hurried step he took.

"Was it?" Snape replied curtly.

"I didn't think you really got along with anyone," Harry said. "Why would you invite the head of Gryffindor – the house I feel I should remind you, you really hate – to have a cup of tea in your quarters?"

"It's part of a nefarious plot too horrible to describe to a teenager," Snape said roughly. "Turkish delight."

Harry had barely noticed that they had reached the gargoyle guarding Dumbledore's office.

"Oh, so we're really going here?" Harry asked, a bit perplexed.

"Of course!" Snape said hurriedly. "Or did you think I fancied another go at the Chamber of Secrets?" He stepped onto the now moving staircase and Harry scrambled to do the same.

"No," he said in annoyance. "I just didn't think we had to come here since we didn't find anything."

"Even the information that a certain suspicion is false is important information," Snape said. He stepped into the short hallway that ensconced the door to Dumbledore's office and watched as Harry stepped off the staircase as well.

"Right," Harry sighed. "And so here we are again."

Snape gave him a weird look before knocking on Dumbledore's door. It opened immediately, revealing a very distressed looking Dumbledore who was pacing in front of his desk. It really surprised Harry. Dumbledore never seemed to be the type of person to be this distressed about anything. When he saw just who was waiting behind his door, his expression cleared up immediately.

"Severus!" he exclaimed, stopping his pacing and taking a few steps closer. "Severus, my boy, I assumed the worst. And you have Harry with you as well. I –"

Dumbledore looked away for the shortest of moments and Harry felt sort of awkward about it. He glanced at Snape again and found that the man seemed entirely perplexed.

"Albus," Snape said. "I have to leave often. You really need not have worried."

"Never during classes," Dumbledore argued. "And with all the disappearances, I just… well, never mind all that. The both of you are safe and sound and that's what matters."

_Apparently, the others don't worry him quite as much._

Dumbledore took his seat behind his desk and gestured for Snape and Harry to occupy the chair on the other side. It showed just how shook Dumbledore was when he didn't even offer anyone any lemon drops.

"So," Dumbledore said, a false lightness to his voice. "We are seeing quite a lot of each other lately, aren't we?"

"The Dark Lord is moving fast, Albus," Snape said matter-of-factly.

_Meanwhile, _I_ can't even get a decent Defence teacher. _

"Of course, Severus," Dumbledore said. "What news have you for me today?"

"First of all, I can say without a doubt that it is not Mr Potter who is behind these disappearances," Snape said. "As you might have guessed, he experienced another blackout today. I reached him within minutes of the link notifying me but when I tried entering his mind, he forcibly deflected me."

Harry frowned. "How?" he asked but Snape glared at him as if to say 'not now'.

"He fled to the Chamber of Secrets immediately after I tried stopping him," Snape continued. "But I was not close enough to actually stop him from going in. I waited near the entrance for hours but he hasn't come out. He can't be behind any of the disappearances that occurred today."

Dumbledore steepled his fingers and looked at Snape from behind his horn-rimmed glasses. "The Chamber of Secrets?" he asked. "Have you been able to figure out what went on down there?"

Snape nodded. "As soon as Mr Potter awoke, we –"

Harry sort of started tuning out of the conversation. As Snape relayed the events of what went down there and how they found the tunnel, Harry started thinking about the five new missing students. Two Gryffindors that he might not have been very close to but he knew them both personally. A Ravenclaw that he might not have known at all, but that was close to another one of his housemates. And then there were the two Slytherins. He couldn't care less about Daphne Greengrass. He hadn't spoken to her all that much and the few times that they had interacted, she had been all kinds of horrible. But Tom Ackerley had never done him any wrong. Hell, Harry hadn't even known him before he decided to become a part of the DA. The boy was shy and not as self-reliant as Harry would have liked to see from one of the members but he was actually very nice and was not afraid to stand up to someone if it was to defend his friends. Harry sighed, thinking that Theo had to be feeling horrible right about now.

But these emotions of worry and anxiety were warring with the feeling of complete and utter relief. Despite the disappearances, he now knew, without a doubt, that he had nothing to do with them. It was just as Dumbledore had said before. Someone was obviously trying to put the blame on him. Why that was, he didn't know. And even though he knew he should be worried about that now, he couldn't do it. Just knowing that he was not harming anyone in any way was enough to grant him a sudden relief he had desperately needed. With that constant weight off his shoulders, he felt a renewed sense of duty to go help those that had vanished bubbling up. He was on their side, after all. And he never hadn't been.

When he noticed that Snape and Dumbledore had stopped talking, he looked up to see the two men looking at him. "Ah, sorry," he said. "I didn't – were you saying something?"

"Is something on your mind, my boy?" Dumbledore asked kindly.

_Really? What do you think?_

"I was just thinking about the missing students, sir," Harry said as respectfully as he could.

Dumbledore smiled kindly. "Would it do any good to tell you to leave this situation to us, my boy?"

Harry looked at him with wide, disbelieving eyes.

_Since when is that what you want from me?_

"Should I?" Harry asked plainly. "It's likely that Voldemort is behind this in some way, isn't it?"

Dumbledore sighed heavily. "I think that's extraordinarily likely," he replied. "Combined with your visions, it does appear as if Voldemort has a plan going. It is regrettable that we have no inside information at the moment."

Harry didn't miss the way Dumbledore glanced at Snape or the way Snape furrowed his brow for a mere second.

"I'm afraid that the Dark Lord is very careful with his information nowadays," Snape said coldly. "As always, I convey to you everything I hear. If you don't trust that I do –"

Dumbledore waved his comment away, not even allowing Snape to finish his sentence. "If I didn't trust you, I would not allow Harry to reside in your quarters, now would I?" he said sternly. "And I never said that I didn't believe you were giving me all the information you could. It simply worries me greatly that Voldemort has become so careful."

Harry felt as if he was intruding into something far too personal. He wondered for a moment if the two older wizards had simply forgotten that he was there. But he didn't want to leave yet. With everything that was going on, he just had to ask Dumbledore something. Something important. Something that only he could answer.

"Whatever he's planning, we need to stop him," Snape said evenly. "I told you about the potion he wants me to brew. While it seems harmless, I worry a great deal for what he wants to do with it. And if we take into account his recent actions and closed off behaviour, I fear that he's preparing to make a move that would checkmate you, Albus."

Dumbledore steepled his fingers. "So it would seem," he replied. "Though we aren't left with many options…" Dumbledore trailed off as he glanced at Harry. It was as good an opening as any, especially since Harry got the feeling that Dumbledore was alluding to something to do with him.

That said, his question still felt as if it came out of the blue. "Would you tell me the prophecy?"

It was safe to say that Harry had never seen Dumbledore so caught off guard. And he likely never would again. But in that instant, Dumbledore's eyes widened and his mouth fell slightly agape. The next instant, he looked at Snape with accusation in his eyes, a dangerous look that made the potions master take a step back even if his expression remained neutral and calm.

Harry could feel the dangerous aura that Dumbledore exuded but just knowing that it wasn't directed at him, made it less terrifying. It was a good thing that _this_ powerful wizard was on his side. And he _was_ on his side. Even if he liked to keep Harry in the dark about many things.

"Please don't be angry with him," Harry pleaded. "It's not right for you to keep this from me and you know it."

Dumbledore looked at him again and for the first time in a long while, he made unwavering eye contact. This time, it didn't elicit any reaction from Harry but he worried about the man's ability to read minds so he immediately raised his Occlumency shields.

"Harry," Dumbledore said. "I had wished to spare you this knowledge. You are far too young to be dealing with these matters." His voice was tinged with regret.

Harry scoffed. "I'm dealing with them anyway, aren't I?" he argued. "Voldemort obviously thinks he needs to kill me and I know why now. I heard the first part."

Dumbledore didn't look away which bolstered Harry immensely. For some reason, he felt that it meant that the man trusted him again. Valued him more, perhaps.

"If I'm going to keep fighting him, I need to know all that I can, don't I?" Harry continued. "Whatever edge I can get over him would be another chance to stay alive. At least, that's how I see it." Determination shone in Harry's eyes as he confronted Dumbledore's gaze with all the courage he could muster. "How can you ask me to find my way in the dark without giving me some sort of light?"

Dumbledore smiled softly. "The time you spent with Professor Snape has clearly taught you a way with words," he said fondly. "It's good to see how you've been such a good influence on each other." He looked at Snape again but this time, there was only kindness in his eyes. "Severus," he said. "How do you feel about Harry's ability to Occlude?"

"He has come a long way," Snape replied. "When he consciously raises his Occlumency shields, they are very tough to break. He needs to work on raising them quicker, though. And above all, he hasn't managed to keep the visions from the Dark Lord out, nor his intrusions that cause the blackouts. But in my expert opinion…"

"You don't believe Occlumency will be much help," Dumbledore finished for him.

"It would definitely help," Snape corrected. "But the Dark Lord's connection will likely never be severed completely. When someone tries to breach Harry's mind using Legilimency, the force would come from outside his mind and could be stopped by his Occlumency walls. The same would probably be true if the Dark Lord attempted Legilimency himself. But these… occurrences do not have an outward source. They stem from somewhere inward. Walls won't help much against an invading force that has access to a secret tunnel."

_Wait, so this is all useless?_

Snape glanced at Harry before turning back to Dumbledore. "Occlumency would still help him recognise what's going on and might even help him stay hidden from the Dark Lord when he's pulled into another vision. But blocking him might be impossible. That said, these intrusions will not help the Dark Lord gain access to Harry's memories. Any information you tell him should be relatively safe. I, too, see more danger in keeping secrets from him at this point."

Dumbledore steepled his fingers and smiled at the dark man standing strong before him. Harry couldn't help but stare. Did Snape really just vouch for him? He even stood up against Dumbledore for him. In a way, at least. He couldn't help the smile that crept on his lips and wasn't even able to remove it when Dumbledore turned his gaze back to him, initiating eye contact once more.

"My," Dumbledore said. "When the two of you come before me with the same goal in mind, I can hardly deny you now can I?" He chuckled in delight. "Don't worry, Severus," he said. "I will take your advice and inform – Harry, was it? – immediately."

"I shall wait outside then," Snape said graciously. But before he could even move, Dumbledore shook his head. "There's no need," he said. "I think that, perhaps, it is time that I provided the both of you, as young Harry so beautifully put it, with some light."

Snape inclined his head graciously and Harry recognised how the man felt. Valued. He felt exactly the same right now. Finding comfort in that knowledge, he gave Dumbledore his full attention. Ready to accept his destiny.

When Dumbledore spoke, it was with icy calm and clear intonation. "The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies."

Silence filled the large office after the last word. Harry's eyes slowly fell to his lap as he mulled that over. What did it even mean? How could it be true?

Surprisingly, the first to speak again was Snape. "Albus," he said. "This prophecy cannot possibly have merit."

"Up until now, it has rung true, Severus," Dumbledore replied.

Snape growled. "Self-fulfilling as it has been up until now, I don't see why we would need to continue living by Trelawney's words."

"Trelawney made that prophecy?" Harry asked. It was possibly the least important question he could ask right about now but his mind wasn't ready yet for anything else.

"Yes, Harry," Dumbledore replied. "It was a most brilliant job interview, I must say. Prophesising in such a well-timed manner was quite a wonderful reason to employ her as a teacher."

Snape slammed his hand down on Dumbledore's desk. "Albus!" he urged. "Could you please focus on the matter at hand? Are you telling us that Harry is the only one who can actually kill the Dark Lord?"

Harry had wanted to ask that but hadn't dared to. It felt as if Snape was outraged on his behalf and it, somehow, helped him stay calm and collect his thoughts.

"Unfortunately, that is exactly what it means," Dumbledore said gravely. "Surely, you now understand why I kept this information from him. It's a heavy burden to bear."

Snape scoffed. "He was bearing it already," he argued. "He just didn't know why."

"I have to admit that you are correct," Dumbledore said sadly. "I can only hope that you'll forgive an old man for trying to preserve Harry's childhood.

"How?" Harry asked softly. Both adults picked up on his question, though. "How could I possibly kill Voldemort? I'm not… I'm just…"

"Don't take the prophecy too literal, Harry," Snape said calmly. He put a hand on Harry's shoulder and squeezed lightly. "You will have help. The Order is there for you as are your friends. You are not and never will be alone."

"Don't forget," Harry said sullenly. "The ministry says I'm nuts. Almost no one believes me when I say that _he's_ back."

"The most important people do," Snape said urgently. "Who cares what people the likes of Fudge and Umbridge think?" Dumbledore coughed awkwardly but Snape ignored him. "What use are they anyway? Focus on the people you _do_ have for they are far more valuable."

Harry looked into those obsidian eyes that were staring at him with deep ferocity and knew exactly what Snape was telling him. 'You have me.'

Harry put a hand on top of the one on his shoulder and smiled at Snape. "Thank you."

Snape nodded, seemingly content that he was able to ease Harry's worries somewhat and refocused his attention on Dumbledore. The old man seemed pleased as a peach about something if his sparkling blue eyes were any indication.

"You spoke of options before, Albus," Snape said. "I probably know what you're thinking but just in case I'm wrong, would you care to explain what you had in mind?"

"Oh, it's nothing that would change anything at the moment," Dumbledore replied. "But I'm starting to feel that Harry's visions are more a blessing than they are a curse. They could prove to be a valuable source of information."

Harry's head snapped back to Dumbledore. While Snape had been reluctant about the idea, Harry had really been against stopping these visions when they showed them all so much. Learning that Occlumency was probably not helping only made the decision easier but to know that Dumbledore shared his vision was nice. It wasn't completely unexpected, of course. The man still wanted what was best for the greater good and, honestly, Harry couldn't really fault him for that any longer; but they hadn't seen eye to eye in so long and now they seemed to be sharing a vision again. This year they had been on the same side but on different teams but now, Harry felt as if they were on the same one again.

"Yes!" He said urgently. "That's exactly what I was thinking."

Dumbledore's smile couldn't possibly get any wider.

"I can clearly see that I am outnumbered here," Snape growled. "But with things being as they are right now, it's not as if I have the option to change anything."

"Quite right, my boy," Dumbledore replied. "From what I have seen, lately, you'll be able to assist Harry quite admirably whilst he gets this… information. And perhaps this indicates another change we can consider."

Snape narrowed his eyes. "No," he replied. "I know what you're getting at but I'm not about to throw in the towel here, Albus."

Harry frowned. "What are you talking about?" he asked.

"Nothing worth your attention," Snape said with a last glance at Dumbledore. "As it stands, dinner has already begun and we are expecting a guest soon after."

"Ah, is that so, Severus?" Dumbledore said, his eyes sparkling madly. "Then I won't keep you any longer. I, for one, am looking forward to a nice, quiet dinner with Fawkes, for once. Thank you for your report." Harry thought that the old man looked tired. His many worries might have finally gotten to him.

Snape inclined his head minutely before gesturing to Harry that he should follow him. Harry got up and caught Dumbledore smiling at him. He couldn't help but smile back.

"Oh, and Severus?" Dumbledore said. "Minerva has taken a liking to mint tea, lately. I thought you'd want to know."

"I'm well aware," Snape said curtly. "Goodbye, Albus."

"Enjoy your dinner," Dumbledore said. "And I'll see you soon."

When the door closed behind them, Harry looked at Snape as if expecting him to make some sort of snide comment about the visions. But Snape didn't say anything scathing at all. Instead, he tiredly rubbed his face with his right hand before schooling his expression back into a neutral one. It was a show of trust that Harry appreciated. Snape wouldn't show such emotions to anyone else. Definitely no other students, in any case.

"Let's go," Snape said.

"Yeah," Harry said. "I'm starving."

* * *

As was to be expected, the great hall was eerily silent. There was barely any whispering going on and the only thing that could be heard clearly was the clinking of cutlery. While Hufflepuff had been spared today, they too had already lost a couple of students so they shared in the solitude that swept across everyone. It was odd, in a way, that the houses had never seemed more in sync than today. It was sad that the sole reason for this was a tragedy.

Snape was currently standing at the head of the Slytherin table to address his students. A silencing ward had clearly been erected because none of the other tables could hear him. But Harry imagined that he was spinning some sort of half-truth about where he had been all day and what was to be done about the two new missing students.

Harry looked back towards his friends who were looking at him rather glumly. Ron hadn't eaten as much as he normally would have and Hermione didn't seem to have an appetite at all. To be fair, Harry didn't feel very peckish himself, despite what he had told Snape.

Ron was the first to speak, though the volume barely carried across the table to Harry so he had to lean in to hear. "I'm glad you're alright," he said. "We both are. If the previous years were any indication – well – we expected the worst, to be honest."

Hermione nodded along, her eyes big and sad. Lavender was her dormmate so Harry could imagine that she was feeling down about that. And yet, she had been so worried about his safety. And so had Ron. They always were worried because they were his friends and they cared for him. Harry sighed when he reminded himself just how much he was willing to trust them as well. And how close he had gotten to telling his friends the truth about the Dursleys. Now that the wards had fallen, he could finally close that chapter and leave them all behind. But to do that, he felt that he needed to come clean to his friends as well. He had mustered up the courage before. He could do it again. And with people disappearing so often, there really was no time like the present.

"Could you both join me in the dorm room?" Harry asked. "When you're done eating. I have something I really want to tell you both."

Hermione and Ron shared a glance – they had done that a lot lately - before looking back at Harry. As if in unison, they pushed their plates away and nodded. Hermione seemed a bit puzzled but Ron appeared determined.

Harry got up from his seat, attracting the glances of several students around him. He noticed that even more of them were looking at him quite angrily. As if they thought he had something to do with all of this. Probably just like Voldemort wanted. He chose not to react right now. After all, he had resolved himself to something much more worrying and he couldn't entertain any other thoughts right now.

He glanced one more time toward the Slytherin table to see that Theo had gotten up and was now talking to Snape quite heatedly. He seemed angry. It probably had something to do with Tom. But Harry was not about to jump into that snake pit. Snape could handle it.

The journey up to the tower was silent, though comfortable. Flanked by his two friends, Harry felt his Gryffindor courage take charge. He could do this. He didn't need to fear their reactions because they were his friends. This was not something to be ashamed of because he had done nothing wrong. Ron and Hermione would understand.

Thankfully, no one was back yet. Harry had counted on it, really. The trio entered the room and Hermione locked it with a spell, much to Harry's gratitude. Harry took a seat on his bed and Hermione went to sit next to him while Ron took a seat on the floor in front of them. Their close proximity made Harry feel at ease and yet he was starting to feel decidedly nervous. This was it. After he said the words, there was no coming back. He would have to explain everything.

Hermione apparently sensed his apprehension and squeezed his hand. "Harry," she said. "Is everything alright? Does it have anything to do with the disappearances?"

"No," Harry said. "Though Snape helped me find out that I don't have anything to do with them today. It's a relief, of course, but it's still weird that I would get these blackouts. But really, that's not what I wanted to talk about."

Ron seemed nearly as nervous as _he_ was. "That's alright," the redhead said. "You can tell us anything. We're your friends."

Harry smiled. "I know," he said, squeezing Hermione's hand in return. He breathed in very deeply and exhaled again in an attempt to release all of his apprehension and fears.

"It's about the Dursleys," he then said. "It's really a long story but here goes. For as long as I can remember, they've a –" Harry swallowed thickly. "They've abused me."

* * *

_Is everyone still keeping count of the missing students? I know this is quite an evil cliffhanger but it's finally happening! The next chapter is extra-long and is one of my best, I think. Please review and I'll see you on Friday._


	33. Chapter 33

_A very big shoutout to Pagemaster4TW__, otherwise known as Sneaky_Prawn. He's my beta for every chapter I write but had a lot of influence on this one in particular. Suffice to say that without him, it'd have been 2000 words shorter._

_Thank you all for your reviews! You keep me so very motivated, it's fantastic. Enjoy!_

* * *

**Chapter 33**

Hermione squeezed Harry's hand so tightly that it hurt but he didn't mind. He tried ignoring the pounding of his heart in his chest and decided to keep talking. The sooner this was over with, the better.

"You know they never liked me," he said. "But I never told you about the extent of their… hatred. They hurt me. Badly." Harry felt tears pricking against the backs of his eyes and silently cursed himself. How were these people still getting to him like that? He could hear Hermione's breath hitch in her throat and couldn't bear to look at her. If he did and saw her distraught expression that he knew she would have, he wouldn't be able to stop himself from crying either.

"It wasn't too bad at first," Harry continued. "Vernon would lock me in the cupboard a lot and Petunia wouldn't feed me for a couple of days but they wouldn't really hit me unless something strange happened."

"Something strange?" Ron asked quietly. His voice sounded strained and when Harry looked at him, he could see the pain in his eyes.

"Something magical," Harry clarified. "They really, really hate magic." His shoulders were shaking and he didn't know why. Hermione's arm snaked around them and Harry leaned into her touch.

"After I got my Hogwarts letter… things got really bad," Harry said. "Vernon would hit me so hard, I would beg him to stop but he never did. I think he liked it, you know. Sometimes he would… laugh at me. Called me weak. I was a freak to him. And to Petunia and Dudley."

From where he was looking, Harry noticed that Ron's fists were clenched so tightly that they were white.

Why was his voice starting to quiver?

"Any excuse was good enough. They made sure that every summer was hell. Vernon didn't stick to using his hands either. He liked using his belt. Or any other tool he could get his hands on for that matter. There was nothing I could do to stop it either. He just hates me. They all hate me!"

Harry startled a bit when Hermione pulled him closer to her and nestled her chin on top of his head as she gently rubbed the back of Harry's hand with her thumb. His mattress gave way a bit when Ron got up and moved to sit next to him.

"I – I was never good enough!" Harry exclaimed loudly. "No matter what I did. No matter how many chores I did for them and no matter how quiet I was when they didn't want to hear me. They just hated having me around and never stopped blaming me for the trouble I gave them."

"Oh, Harry," Hermione said, her voice tight and rife with grief. "I'm so sorry."

Hermione leaned back against the headboard, and Harry followed. He swiped at his face and noticed that it was wet. He hadn't even realised that he had started to cry. But one glance at his friends' faces revealed that he was not the only one.

"This summer got really bad," Harry said in a whisper. "I almost… died."

The string of expletives escaping from Ron's mouth made Harry chuckle wryly. Hermione's embrace was so tight that it almost took his breath away. And yet, he wished that it would never end.

"Who helped you?" Hermione asked softly. Her voice trembled as she spoke.

"Snape," Harry said.

The perplexed look on Ron's face was almost enough to make him laugh again. But not quite.

"I know," he said. "It seems unlikely. But he was there. That's another long story so let's just leave that for now, okay? But he was there. And he saved me. In more ways than one. He brought me to Hogwarts to get me fixed up. And when Dumbledore said I had to go back -"

"Harry, you _can't_ go back there," Ron said angrily. "I don't care what Dumbledore says. If he makes you, I'll go to his office myself and –"

"You're right," Harry interrupted before Ron could say something stupid. "I can't anymore. Snape promised that I'll never have to go back there."

"Snape again," Ron said in surprise. "I know that he's been helping you but… I never knew how much." He put his hand on Harry's shoulder and squeezed much in the same manner that Snape would do at times. "I wish that he didn't have to. That you could have told me or Hermione. You know we wouldn't have let you down."

Harry shook his head. "I couldn't," he said. "I was… ashamed of what was going on."

"You did nothing wrong!" Ron exclaimed. "Those muggles did! How can anyone be so – so –"

"Evil," Hermione finished softly.

The trio fell silent for a moment and Harry went over the conversation in his head. So far, his friends hadn't rejected him. Instead, they had cried with him. Ron was willing to go to battle for him. They were still here.

"I was really down for a while," Harry then said. "I know that you both noticed. You confronted me about it, even." He looked at Ron importantly. "I'm sorry that I didn't let you help me then. I just… couldn't."

"Harry," Ron said softly. "Of course you are. You have to know that you mean the world to us."

Harry sniffed and wiped his nose with his sleeve. Something that Snape would have hated to see him do. "I know," he whispered softly. "Now. But I… Merlin, this is hard. There's another reason that I have to stay at Snape's for a while."

"Other than You-know-who attacking you again?" Ron asked worriedly.

"Harry," Hermione said. "You didn't… did you?" her embrace was almost a death grip. Still, Harry didn't want her to let go. If she did, he might break apart.

"There really is no easy way of saying this," Harry said. "Please just don't… think less of me, okay?"

"Never," Ron said solemnly. "I swear."

With a courage that Harry never knew he possessed, he came clean in one fell swoop. "I tried to kill myself."

Hermione gasped in shock. Even if she had expected the words, they clearly still surprised her.

"Harry!" Ron exclaimed. He grabbed Harry's forearm tightly as if trying to make sure that he was still there. That he was alright. "How could you do that?! I can't – " his voice got stuck in his throat. He bent his head, allowing his red hair to cover his eyes. His tears were now flowing freely and falling onto the back of Harry's hand.

"It's alright," Harry said automatically.

"No!" Ron said, his voice trembling madly. "It's not alright! I can't believe you thought you had to do something like that."

Harry's breathing quickened a bit. He should have known that Ron would resent him for this. No Gryffindor would ever take his own life, after all.

"I understand," he said softly. "I know that you probably don't want anything else to do with m-"

Harry didn't know when Hermione's arms had made room but Ron suddenly pulled him into a fierce embrace. Harry's face was half-buried into Ron's shoulder and he could hear the redhead hiccoughing softly.

"You're my best friend," Ron said as strongly as he could at that moment. "I'm sorry that you thought I wouldn't be here for you. I'm so, so sorry. About everything."

Their position was an awkward one at best but Harry didn't want to leave. Ever. His shoulder was becoming wet with Ron's hot tears and the arms enveloping him were like a shield that protected him from the rest of the world. And right now, he really needed that. Hermione, who was still sat behind him, put her head on Harry's free shoulder and calmly stroked his back.

He imagined that this was what the comfort of a family would feel like. It was safe, soft and warm. It was precious. And he never wanted to let go, again.

It was a small blessing that no one had even tried coming into the room. No one disturbed them as they sat together in quiet understanding. Each one of them realising just how valuable the others were to them. And just when Harry felt that he wouldn't fall apart, Ron withdrew and just sagged into a slouched sitting position next to Harry. Hermione did the same thing.

"Harry," Ron then said, sounding serious. "Just tell me one thing. And don't lie about it, alright?"

Harry smiled thinly and nodded. How could he refuse his friends anything right now?

"Do you still feel like that?" Ron asked. "Do you still want to… die?"

Harry shook his head. "No," he said, happy that he knew he was telling the truth. "Not anymore."

"That's good," Ron said. Harry got the impression that his friends didn't really know what to say and he couldn't blame them. This was a lot to take in, after all.

"Snape's been really great, though," he said, trying to lighten the mood.

"Yeah, what happened there anyway?" Ron asked. "No offence but Snape seems like the last person suited for taking in any kind of student. Except maybe Malfoy."

"Ah, well… he's kind of the one who found me after I… you know," Harry admitted. "He got me down. I didn't want to tell anyone about what I did but Snape already knew. I had to be supervised. Still have to, I suppose…" Harry chuckled a bit. "Snape might already be freaking out, now that I think about it. But anyway, he gave me a choice. Stay with him and don't tell anyone that didn't need to know or go to McGonagall but, of course, he would have had to tell her then. And I just couldn't… I still don't want her to know."

Hermione smiled and bumped Harry playfully with her shoulder. "I'm glad you decided to tell us, though," she said. "We promise to keep your secrets, of course."

"That goes without saying," Ron said. He was frowning as if he was considering something.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked, realising just how stupid that question was right now.

"I just can't believe that Snape was there for you when we weren't," Ron said. "I feel like the world's worst best friend."

"You're not," Harry said hurriedly. "Neither of you are."

"Oh yeah?" Ron asked. "Then how come I never noticed anything wrong after summer breaks, you reckon? And how about those bars on your window in second year? I can't believe that didn't ring an alarm bell!"

"You were twelve," Harry argued. "How could you have made that connection? And besides, I know how to hide things."

Ron snorted. "I'll give you that," he said. "But I still feel that I could have done more."

Hermione smiled and reached out to touch Ron's knee. "We still can, Ron," she said. "We can be here for Harry."

"You're already doing that," Harry said. "And even if I didn't tell you sooner, you really showed me how much you cared, before. You have no idea how much I appreciate that."

"Yeah, thanks," Ron said, still sounding a bit sad. "Hey, where are you staying from now on?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know yet. It hasn't been decided. But apparently, I can't stay with a convicted murderer so Sirius is out."

"I'm sure you could stay with us if you wanted to," Ron said. "Mum loves you. You know that."

"I would offer the same," Hermione said. "But I don't think my house would be very safe for you. But if you would want to, I'm sure that Professor Dumbledore could erect some pretty powerful wards. I know my parents would be fine with it."

"You're both amazing," Harry said. "But I think that this decision is not up to me."

"How could it not be?" Ron asked. "After everything that's happened?"

"I agree," Hermione said. "Professor Dumbledore is a fantastic wizard but he really dropped the ball here."

"By law, I'm not old enough for these kinds of decisions," Harry said. "And besides, Snape's got my back."

Harry couldn't help but grin when he saw the look Hermione and Ron gave each other. Slowly but steadily, they were starting to act normal again. Much quicker than Harry would have anticipated. He really appreciated it.

"Thank you, Harry," Ron then said. "For telling us. You know that we'll be here for you no matter what, right?"

"I know," Harry said. The Ron from his previous year seemed to have grown so much. And Harry knew that the redhead regretted his actions from back then. He knew that he could trust his friends completely. "Thanks for listening."

Harry cast a Tempus and noticed that it was a bit past seven by now. "Uh oh," he said.

"Are you going to be in trouble?" Hermione asked.

"Probably not," Harry said. He knew that Snape would only approve of this conversation. "But Snape might be getting worried. I should be going."

"Hold on," Hermione said. She procured a handkerchief and gently wiped away some stray tears on Harry's face. When she was done, she smiled at him. "There you are," she said. "Handsome as ever."

Harry chuckled. "Thanks, Hermione," he said. "I'll see you guys later, alright?"

"Definitely," Ron said. "Don't forget about the DA meeting tomorrow."

Hermione unlocked the door for Harry and the three of them walked out. Neville and Seamus were sitting in the common room, next to Fred and George. They didn't seem at all surprised that Hermione came out of their dorm room as well. A couple of the younger kids looked at Harry with a sort of fear in their eyes and Harry couldn't blame them. He knew now that he had nothing to do with the issue at hand, but it definitely didn't look that way. Especially with him disappearing in the middle of the day.

"Go on, Harry," Ron said, giving him a little shove towards the fireplace. "I'll talk to these idiots."

"Yeah, thanks Ron," Harry said. "Bye."

"Have fun grinding bicorn horn!" Fred called out to him in jest.

"Bring us a souvenir at some point, will you?" George added.

"I'll see what I can do," Harry replied. He tossed in the floo powder and called out his destination. In a flash and a whirl, he was gone. When the fireplace in Snape's quarters spat him out again, he was able to stay on his feet. He didn't even stumble or hit any of the furniture along the way.

"Nice of you to drop by," Snape said evenly. He was grading papers in the sitting room again. He looked weary as he scribbled a red sentence at the very top of someone's essay.

"I'm sorry," Harry said. "I was talking to my friends and I sort of lost track of time."

"It is quite alright for you to speak with them," Snape said. "And there's no need to apologise. I imagined that, after today's events, you would have a few things to discuss."

Harry kicked off his shoes and set them neatly by the door. "That wasn't actually what we talked about," he said carefully. He shrugged off his outer robes and hung them on the coat hanger, next to Snape's heavy cloak.

Snape picked up another essay and started scanning the first paragraph. "Oh?" he said. Harry figured that he was only half-listening but that was alright. He sat down in the couch and took out his wand. It was becoming almost automatic for him to relinquish it to Snape now and it certainly didn't feel as awful as it did before. It's not as if he was completely powerless without it. Not with Snape here. Snape took it easily and carefully tucked it away for safekeeping.

Harry leant back into the couch cushions, still enjoying the phantom feel of his friends' embraces. "I told them," he then said. "About the Dursleys, I mean."

That definitely got Snape's attention. He shredded his attention away from the essay and looked at Harry with dark, piercing eyes. Yet, he didn't speak.

Harry smiled slightly. "I also told them about what I did before," he continued. "About how I tried to… kill myself." Harry fumbled a bit with the hem of his shirt as he glanced between the table and Snape. His restless eyes didn't seem to know where to land.

"They took it really well. Better than I expected," Harry said. "I should have known, I guess. Of course they were going to be there for me. They always have before. I was stupid to think that they wouldn't."

"You are not stupid," Snape said softly. "You merely have trouble trusting others. Something that I cannot fault you for. I am very pleased for you that you were able to explain your circumstances to your friends. That is well done of you, Harry."

"Thanks," Harry said. Why was he feeling so nervous? "But I couldn't have done it without you."

"I hardly intervened in the relationship between you and your friends," Snape replied. "There truly is no need for your thanks."

"You're wrong," Harry said. "I know, I know. Shocker since you're hardly ever wrong, right?"

Snape just gave him an odd look.

Harry chuckled awkwardly. "You've been there for me every step of the way," he said. "I know I've been annoying at times and, honestly, you never needed to take me in. You're not my head of house and you're not my guardian. But, the thing is…"

_Merlin, is this the day of awkward revelations? Here we go…_

"You've acted more like a guardian to me than anyone else ever has."

Harry felt tears prick in his eyes again and mentally cursed himself. Why was he so emotional today? It was embarrassing.

"And you _did_ tell me to talk to other people. You wanted me to from the start. But the thing is, you never pushed me beyond my limits. Argh, just tell me if I'm becoming too mushy, all right? I just… I owe you so much. So, so much."

Instinctively, Harry wiped his face with the palm of his hand. "I know you said you don't need it but I really want to tell you – well – thanks. Thank you for everything you've done for me. And for not giving up on me."

He ventured a glance at Snape whose eyes were swimming with all kinds of emotion. Dark, endless pools of obsidian.

"Harry," Snape said, "You are most welcome. My actions of the past months are the least I could do to make up for my behaviour of the past four years. If anything, it is not nearly enough."

"It is for me," Harry said solemnly. "I know that you don't intend for it but I almost imagine that this is what…"

_Being loved feels like._

A sharp intake of breath made Harry realise that Snape had heard him.

"I'm sorry," Harry said hurriedly. "That was stupid."

"Harry," Snape's voice was tinged with apprehension and Harry realised that, even though he didn't show it, Snape didn't really know what to say. "I am not a very… familial man. And I have to admit that for all my vocal prowess, I don't quite know what to say in situations such as these. The words don't come quite as… natural."

"It's alright," Harry said hurriedly. "I didn't really say it either. I understand if you'd rather talk about something else."

"You misunderstand," Snape replied. "While I am treading in an area of expression that I am not familiar with, I do wish to give it a try. What you must understand about me, is that I do not exactly come from a family that expressed love on a regular basis, if ever." Snape sighed. "My situation was never quite as horrendous as yours but it was not what it was supposed to be either. To me, love was, until very recently, just a word."

Harry wondered about that. He hadn't ever thought about Snape's childhood. He always assumed that it had been normal. Why wouldn't he have? But it made sense, in a way. If Snape hadn't been happy at his home, maybe that's why he was so appalled with Harry's situation.

Harry smiled weakly. "If love is just a word, then why does it hurt so much when you realize it isn't there?"

Snape started absentmindedly stacking the essays into a neat pile, even though it was already neat. It was so clear that he was nervous. But at the same time, Harry couldn't help but appreciate just how vulnerable Snape now looked. Something he knew the man could easily hide from him if he wanted to.

"You realise that I wouldn't allow any other students into my personal chambers, I hope?" Snape then said. "I haven't even entertained any of my Slytherins in here."

"Really?" Harry asked.

Snape nodded curtly. "Not even my godson."

Harry wanted to know who that godson was but didn't think it the correct moment to ask. Snape, however, seemed to sense his unspoken question.

"Draco Malfoy is my godson," he told Harry. "And he is not even aware of what my sitting room looks like."

"Oh," Harry said. "That's…"

He didn't really know what that was. Or what Snape was trying to tell him. Did the man mean to say that he was intruding? No, surely not. He wouldn't feel at all uncomfortable when saying something like that.

"Goodness, Harry," Snape sighed. He ran a tired hand through his hair and Harry noticed the dark blotches underneath his eyes. "I suppose a Gryffindor isn't quite able to read between the lines. What I'm trying to tell you is…"

And then Snape seemed to straighten himself out. He fixed his posture and sat up rigidly, his travelling eyes now fixing on Harry with determination. His hands stilled and folded into his lap. "I have truly come to care for you, Harry," he then said. "You are much more than the boy I always thought you were. You did not inherit any of James Potter's flaws. All I see of him in you is that ridiculous courage that seems to lie within ninety per cent of all Gryffindors." Snape chuckled slightly as if remembering something. His posture relaxed a little. "You are, instead, so very much like your mother." His eyes filled with a forlorn sadness which Harry wished he could comprehend. Snape had known his mother? "And I have no qualms admitting that I loved Lily Evans dearly. She was my… best friend."

He looked at Harry with a sad smile. "Do you understand what I mean to say?"

Harry did. Even though he didn't understand why, he knew what Snape was saying. He knew it with every fibre of his being. And it filled him with such immense joy that he felt he could conjure the world's largest Patronus.

But Snape's confession gave rise to a number of new questions, one of which being how he knew his mother. He already knew that Snape had known Petunia, of course, but when Harry had asked about that, he was shot down very quickly. But that was then. And maybe now…

Harry shifted closer to Snape, still staying within the boundaries of the couch. He leaned on the armrest and met Snape's gaze. His own uncertainty was reflected back in those eyes. And Harry knew that he should voice his own feelings.

"I care for you too, Severus," he said. "Very much so."

Snape seemed taken aback for a moment and looked away, suddenly feigning great interest in the fire dancing in the hearth.

"Thank you, Harry," he then said softly. "That means… quite a lot. And I quite like your use of my given name, to be honest. Perhaps it would be prudent for you to start using it as long as we're not in public."

"Yeah," Harry said. "I'd like that."

They sat in tense silence for a moment, each of them mulling over what they should say next. Harry desperately wanted to ask more about his mother but didn't think he should right now. He wished he knew what was going through Severus' mind right now. How much effort had this conversation taken the man? He seemed exhausted though that was already true before Harry had talked to him.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked, reaching out to lightly touch Severus on the arm.

"I'm quite alright, Harry," Severus replied. "I'm merely… touched. That's all. I hadn't expected a conversation of this nature this evening. Or ever, for that matter."

"I didn't really plan for it," Harry admitted. "It just happened. I'm just glad you don't think of me as a burden."

"A burden?" Severus echoed. "You hardly ever act up and do as you're told rather diligently. Why would I see you as a burden?"

"You just seem tired, that's all," Harry said.

"I.. I'll admit to having a lot on my plate right now," Severus said. "But it is nothing new. And nothing you should concern yourself with."

"Can I do anything to help?" Harry urged.

Severus sighed. "Not unless you have an idea of how to combine three or four different potions that would interact with each other in a rather volatile manner if taken separately."

Harry just looked at him. "Er…"

"Forget I said that," Severus then said. "I don't expect an answer from you. There's really nothing I want from you except that you focus on yourself. Is that understood?"

"I understand," Harry said. "But you can't just ask me to stop worrying about you. It doesn't' work like that."

"No," Severus agreed heavily. "It wouldn't be in your nature, I suppose. How could it?" He slouched into his seat – something Harry had rarely seen him do – and just stared at Harry. Almost as if he was seeing him for the first time.

"Harry," he said, his voice heavy with emotion. "You really do have your mother's eyes."

Harry stared back for one long moment until he couldn't handle the miserable look in Severus' eyes anymore. "You weren't just friends, were you?" he asked. He could tell just by looking at the man. From the way he spoke about her. "You loved her."

Severus smiled softly and finally averted his gaze. He stared into some imagined far off distance in reminiscence and Harry couldn't help but notice how much younger he seemed when lost in his memories. "I truly did," he admitted. "Unlike I've loved anyone before. Or since. She was the one good thing that happened in my life. If only…" he sighed and subconsciously rubbed his left lower arm. "If only."

"What happened?" Harry urged. He knew that something about this story was painful to Severus but he couldn't help it. He needed the truth. And he needed to hear it from the man sitting next to him. His mother's friend.

"It's quite a long story," Severus said softly.

"I'm not going anywhere," Harry replied. "Please."

After a moment of silence, Severus exhaled a breath he had been holding for a while and spoke. "Very well," he said. "You've been wondering how it was that I knew Petunia. And I probably should have informed you of the truth much sooner; But this is a story I don't much like to tell."

Harry nodded sympathetically, not responding verbally out of fear of stopping Severus.

"I lived in the same neighbourhood as did your maternal grandparents," Severus explained. "Which means that I lived close to Petunia and Lily. Only a few houses down when you follow the riverbend. Back then, their part of the neighbourhood was still beautiful and the people were still friendly. I didn't like being at home much so I wandered the streets quite often. One day, I saw these two girls playing. And one of them leapt off a swing and floated for a few seconds before landing. She was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. Hair as red as the setting sun and eyes as green as emeralds."

Severus smiled fondly at the memory while Harry took it all in. They had lived near each other? So Severus lived in a muggle neighbourhood? But Harry couldn't think on it for long before Severus continued his story.

"I told her that she was a witch," Severus said. "She thought I was insulting her. I certainly became acquainted with her fiery temper that day." He chuckled. "But when I explained to her what I really meant, she was delighted. She loved the idea of magic and truly enjoyed the little bits of it I could already show her."

"Petunia must have loved that," Harry said sardonically. It had slipped from him before he could think about it. But Severus didn't seem to mind his interruption. Instead, he chuckled.

"Oh, she most certainly did not," he said. "At first, she was just scared and I believe somewhat jealous of me. But soon, she started thinking of magic as a crime against nature. She would call Lily a freak, knowing full well how much that hurt her."

Harry knew very well how much that word hurt.

"Yes," Severus said sympathetically. "Unfortunately, I realise that she never quite relinquished those silly notions. But I didn't mind at the time. I was with Lily almost every day. She would help me when things became particularly bad at home and I would tell her all about our world and about Hogwarts. She was most excited to start attending. I felt so lucky that I would be a first-year alongside her."

Severus sighed deeply. "And then there was the sorting. As you well know, she was sorted into Gryffindor. Because of course, she was. Bravery, daring, nerve, she had it all. Merlin forgive me, but I often wished she didn't." Another deep sigh. "I, of course, was sorted into Slytherin. You can imagine that, even then, our two houses were bitter rivals."

"So you grew apart?" Harry guessed.

"Oh no," Severus said. "She wouldn't allow that. That fiery little girl stood up to everyone in Gryffindor who told her to stay away from me. We would partner up in all classes we shared and we would do our homework together. We spent as much time together as we could, much to the dismay of both of our houses. The Marauders, unfortunately, decided to use me for target practice. To this day I'm not entirely sure if their choice had to do with Lily. I knew that Potter always had a thing for her and that he was envious of her spending time with me but I think his intense dislike for me already started on the train. I suppose it doesn't quite matter now."

He glanced at Harry. "While I would never have grown fond of James Potter, I need you to understand that he grew up to be a somewhat decent man and that I'm telling you this for the sake of the story. I don't want you dwelling on the actions of the Marauders."

Harry nodded slowly, though he wasn't sure if he could take Severus' words to heart.

"One day, when I was your age exactly, the Marauders played a particularly nasty prank on me," Severus said. There was a certain bitterness obvious in his voice that made Harry wary of the next part. "I will not divulge to you what it is, exactly, that happened but I will tell you that their primary objective was to humiliate me. They were quite successful, as well. They even used one of my own spells against me to achieve their goal. But then there was Lily."

Severus clenched his fist tightly and Harry could see the painful glint in his eyes. "She stood up for me, as she always did. She really was, a wonderful friend. But my pride was wounded and I could not allow for another blow in the form of the help of a girl. So I lashed out at her. I called her something unforgivable. I called her a mudblood."

The spark of righteous fury within Harry died as quickly as it came when he saw how distraught this memory was making Severus.

"She was my faithful friend and I chased her off," Severus said softly. Harry recognised the painful tremble to his voice and wished that he could do or say something to ease the man's suffering.

"I begged her to forgive me," Severus said. "But it had been the last straw. She had seen me become friends with types like Lucius Malfoy. She knew I was interested in the Dark Lord and what he had to offer. And she asked me… she asked me if I was still planning on joining him.

"Even if I had wanted to lie to Lily, I couldn't have. She always knew exactly when I was being truthful. And I didn't want to feed her falsities. After what I had done, she deserved the truth. It's what drove her away for good."

The glistening in Severus' eyes betrayed tears that were ready to fall. Harry reached out and put his hand on top of Severus' in an attempt for comfort.

"She was the only true friend I have ever had," Severus said softly. "And I will not deny that I loved her in more ways than one. But she didn't reciprocate those feelings and I can't blame her. My decisions would have put her in danger but I was too foolish to even recognise the damage I was doing."

"I'm so sorry," Harry said. He wouldn't know what he would do if his friends suddenly abandoned him because he firmly believed in a cause. Even if Severus' cause had been wrong, he still felt sorry for the man.

"Me too," Severus replied.

"Didn't you ever see her again?" Harry said. "You know, after you became a spy?"

"At times," Severus said. "At order meetings. But by then, the damage had been done. And I was too cowardly to approach her afterwards. Besides, she had Potter. There was no more room for me in her heart."

"I think there would have been," Harry said. "She would have forgiven you. I know she would have."

Severus stared wistfully at the hand that was topping his own. "Dreams of a far-gone memory," he said. Harry was startled when a single teardrop fell on his hand. He looked at his weary professor who seemed so very broken right now and wished that he could do something to put him back together. He could feel his heart tighten in his chest as he wished for Severus to feel better.

Clumsily, he sat on his haunches in front of Severus until he was at eye level and carefully wrapped his arms around the taller man's shoulders. He could feel Severus stiffen slightly but only for an instant. And after a small moment of hesitation, Snape returned the embrace.

It didn't last long. Not at all as long as the hug Harry had gotten from his friends earlier that day but when Severus broke off the embrace a short moment later, he seemed to be feeling better.

"Thank you, Harry," Severus said, his voice still cracking ever so slightly. "Forgive me, I… don't know what came over me. I'm somewhat weary, I suppose."

"You don't have to be embarrassed," Harry said. "That's what friends are for, right?"

Severus chuckled wryly. "A Gryffindor and a Slytherin?" he said.

"A Snape and a Potter," Harry replied. "What could possibly go wrong?"

Severus smiled. "Especially considering the trouble a Potter can cause all by himself."

Before Harry could reply, they were interrupted by a sharp knock on the door.

Severus groaned softly. "That would be Minerva," he said.

"Do you want me to ask her to come back some other time?" Harry asked.

"No," Severus replied. "She might not indulge me a second time. If you could please let her in, I would appreciate it."

"Okay, Severus," Harry said, trying out the name. It was weird, saying it like that but he could definitely get used to it.

He opened the door to reveal McGonagall standing there looking strangely out of place surrounded by the dungeon walls. "Good evening, Professor," Harry said politely.

"Mr Potter," McGonagall greeted. Harry stepped aside and the transfiguration professor crossed the threshold. "Ah, Severus," she said. "Working hard as always, I see."

"It seems to me that these essays become longer each year," Severus said as he stood to greet her. "Thank you for coming, Minerva."

"Thank you for the invitation," McGonagall said kindly. She took a seat on the couch Harry normally occupied to sit directly next to Severus. Harry stood there, feeling a bit lost He wasn't sure if Severus wanted him to join them or if he preferred that he went to his room, making as little noise as possible. Deciding that they likely wanted to talk about teacher things, Harry decided on the latter and made to go to his room.

"Harry, wouldn't you rather join us?" Severus asked before Harry reached the door.

"What?" Harry asked. "Me?"

"No, the other Harry," Severus replied sardonically. "Of course I mean you."

"Oh," Harry said. "Er… sure."

Harry sat down in an unoccupied armchair, feeling somewhat happy that he was to be included. McGonagall smiled at him when he looked at her and Harry felt sort of put on the spot. Then, a pot of tea and three cups appeared on Severus' coffee table alongside a plate of biscuits.

"Do I smell mint tea, Severus?" McGonagall asked curiously.

"Your senses do not deceive you," Severus replied plainly. He poured McGonagall a cup and graciously handed it to her. "Harry?"

Completely taken aback by the normalcy of the situation, Harry just nodded. Severus filled his cup as well and slid it across the table towards Harry before helping himself.

McGonagall took a sip and looked at the pile of essays defiled with red ink. "You're certainly not becoming any more lenient over the years," she noted.

"If you could read the sort of drivel the students dare put into their potions essays, you would understand, Minerva," Severus said easily.

McGonagall picked up one of the essays and glanced it over. The smile on her face widened. "Oh my," she said. "It would appear that Mr Longbottom needs to learn that you can't just add sugar to a potion to make it taste better."

"One would expect him to have learned as much over the years," Severus said.

"Was it really necessary to threaten him with drinking his creation, though?" McGonagall asked.

"Threaten?" Severus repeated, amusement in his voice. "I doubt the boy even realises that that combination would be deadly."

Harry snorted and quickly took a biscuit when Severus shot him an amused glance.

"And why are you laughing?" Severus jibed. "If I remember correctly, you once decided that snake eyes would be a nice substitute for newt eyes because they are both eyes."

"That was two years ago!" Harry exclaimed. "How do you even remember that?"

"Sadly, I am gifted with the ability to remember all of the mistakes my students decide to make," Severus said.

"Now, Severus," McGonagall said sweetly. "I remember one instance that a certain someone accidentally transfigured his own ears into antlers."

"Ah, see Harry?" Severus said as he casually sipped his tea. "Some teachers remember mistakes made over twenty years ago."

Harry laughed. "Wait, you were bad a transfiguration?" he asked. Somehow, he always thought of Severus as the kind of person that was good at everything.

"Perhaps not as good as in my other classes…" Severus admitted.

McGonagall chuckled. "Sure, let's leave it at that," she said.

"Keep it up, Minerva," Severus said casually. "I can always go ahead and floo Albus to find out just what kind of stories he has about you."

"Me?" McGonagall said. "Seeing how I took over teaching his class, you can't possibly think he thought of me as a bad student."

Severus grinned. "I was not referring to your grades, dear colleague," he said.

Severus winked at Harry who was watching everything with fascination. Snape and McGonagall really _were_ friends, weren't they? Despite their houses? Despite their Quidditch rivalry?

McGonagall laughed loudly. "Oh, Severus, you do _not_ want to go there," she said. The tea left in her cup was sloshing a bit as she shook whilst laughing. "Surely neither of you want to know what this old bag of bones was up to back in the day."

"I'm sure Harry would be fascinated to hear just what the head girl was doing," Severus said easily. "What _did_ go in that prefects' bathroom?"

"Oh, look what you've done, Severus," McGonagall said. "Harry's bright red!"

"Am not!" Harry protested but he still tried to hide his face behind his cup.

"I do believe that we're corrupting the boy's innocent soul," Severus said sardonically. "Minerva, how could you?"

McGonagall snorted into her cup of tea. "Goodness, I can't possibly believe that," she said. "Surely, things have been going on for a while with Ms Granger, haven't they?"

"Oh?" Severus said. "That's news to me. Have you been courting her then, Harry?"

"What?" Harry exclaimed. "No! Why would you say that? How did this conversation even become about me?" he started waving his arms in a mild panic. "Hermione's just a friend! That's all."

"See, Minerva?" Severus said. "Just a friend. Your matchmaking skills are not required here."

"Well, did anyone else catch your eye?" McGonagall asked.

Harry turned an even darker shade of red. He really didn't want to talk to his professor's about all of this.

"I do believe we ought to stop teasing him," Severus then came to his rescue. "Any more and Harry might just retreat to his room and not come out until summer."

The situation felt entirely homey and relaxed. Even if Harry hadn't spent all that much personal time with McGonagall before, he could appreciate just how easy it all came to him. The witty banter and amusing back and forth between his two professors created an atmosphere that seemed to ease all of his tension. And he noticed that same effect in the both of them as well. It was clear to him that Severus and McGonagall both needed these kinds of interactions. And now more than ever. That was why Severus had invited McGonagall over before. He had noticed that the woman was starting to crack. And he probably felt the same way, himself. All in all, Harry suddenly found himself hoping that McGonagall would be over more often. And that he would, again, be allowed to stay.

* * *

_I am especially curious as to what you all thought of this chapter. Please let me know!_

_On another note, today was my first day back at work. My quarantine period is over. This means that I might not be able to update twice a week anymore in the near future. For now, I have enough chapters ready to continue to do so but be forwarned that this may change quickly. I promise to at least update every Friday, though.  
See you on Tuesday!_


	34. Chapter 34

_I can't believe it's already Tuesday but here we are! Thank you all for reviewing so abundantly. The last chapter was the second-most reviewed one of this story so... hurray! I hope you'll enjoy this next one as well._

* * *

**Chapter 34**

Harry, Ron and Hermione were the first to arrive in the room of requirement. Granted, they were somewhat early but usually, some of the others would have gathered already. Still deprived of his invisibility cloak, Harry only had his Marauder's Map to keep an eye on the passers-by. Not one of them was a member.

"I'm sure they'll come, Harry," Hermione said, though she didn't sound very convinced. "Maybe some of their classes ran late."

"Yeah, I'm sure that Fred and George will show at least," Ron chimed in. "They said they were eager to learn the next spell you have in mind."

Harry sighed. "I wish everyone would understand that it's only in their best interest to know what they're doing. I can't believe that they'd be scared of me. I hardly ever cast spells at anyone in here!"

"They know that," Ron said. "But the older students are scaring them a bit, I think. And the younger ones are so hysterical, at times, that they would convince just about anyone that listens in."

"Unless they know you," Hermione chimed in quickly. "Harry. Your real friends are still here for you."

At that moment, the door opened to reveal the smiling faces of Fred and George. "Greetings little brother!" Fred exclaimed as he wrestled Ron into a headlock.

"Harry, ol' chap!" George said, clapping Harry on the shoulder. "Where is that souvenir you promised us?"

Harry couldn't help but chuckle. "I don't recall any such promises," he said.

"Come on, Harry!" Fred said. As he stepped closer, he was dragging Ron along. "Can't you nab us an eccentric octopus head or something?"

"Or perhaps a jar of shed snakeskin?" George offered.

"What about a secret potions recipe?" Fred gasped. "Just think what we could do with something like that."

"I'm afraid that there's nothing like that in Snape's chambers, guys," Harry said honestly. "Nothing but a pile of books and a desk full of your everyday office supplies. Well –" he added with a knowing glance at Hermione, "_wizarding_ office supplies."

"Sorry, Harry, but that's just not possible," Fred said solemnly.

"Pull the other one, mate," George said, his tone a mock version of disappointment.

"Look, if you don't believe me, you can always knock on his door and see for yourself."

"Harrykins!" Fred exclaimed loudly. "Are you inviting us over for a slumber party?"

Harry snorted. "No, I-"

"That's settled then," George said easily. He high-fived his brother in triumph. "Slumber party at Snape's! We'll go down in Gryffindor history."

"You two are mental, do you know that?" Ron said. He had finally managed to free himself from Fred's grasp and was now rubbing the back of his neck.

"We know," the twins said in unison. "That's what makes us such a delight."

Harry was just about to tell the twins that they really shouldn't just show up on Snape's doorstep when the door opened again, this time revealing Ginny and Michael.

"Ah-ha!" George said triumphantly. "In Weasleys you can trust, right Harry?"

"Still stuck to our baby sister, Corner?" Fred asked. "You're quite the courageous one, I'll give you that. Are you sure you shouldn't be in Gryffindor?"

"Shut up, Fred," Ginny said fiercely. "Unless you want to have to look over your shoulder during the next Quidditch practice."

"They're just jealous that they don't have girlfriends," Hermione chimed in, coming to Ginny's rescue.

"What's that, Hermione?" George asked. "Are you volunteering?"

"The best thing about _us_," Fred added, "is that you can get twice the fun for the price of one!"

"Hey, that rhymed!" George said, sounding immensely pleased.

"Knock it off," Ron snarled, a little bit more menacingly than was strictly necessary.

"Woops, sorry baby brother," Fred said. "She's all yours. Sorry George, looks like we'll have to keep looking."

George threw his head back in mock agony, with the back of his forearm pressed to his forehead. "O woe is me! Won't a pretty damsel see past this awesome shell to get to the true me within?"

"Rubbish," Ginny said, chuckling slightly.

Harry shook his head in mild disbelief. "Not that this isn't fun and all but where is the rest?"

"Stop being so nervous, Harry," Hermione said softly. "They will come."

Hermione wasn't entirely wrong. In the next ten minutes or so, they were able to welcome back Marcus Belby, Neville and Luna. Much to Harry's surprise, Theodore Nott still showed up as well. And much to everyone else's dismay, he had brought Malfoy along.

"Come in," Harry said, waiting until the door closed behind the Slytherins. "Theo, I'm so sorry about what happened."

Theodore sighed and looked at the floor. "Yeah," he said. "I'm sure he's alright but… I hadn't really expected this, you know?"

"No one did," Ron said. "But we're still sorry. Tom is a good guy."

"Did I just hear you say that, Weasley?" Malfoy asked. "Did you just refer to a Slytherin as a 'good guy'? My, it must be a cold day in hell indeed."

"For your information, we _all_ like Tom," Hermione chimed in as she moved slightly in front of Ron. "His house had nothing to do with it. As opposed to you, Malfoy, we don't judge people based on things they can't control."

Malfoy's gaze seemed to soften ever so slightly before reforming into a cold glare. "You're right," he said. "Ackerley really is something. I regret that this had to happen to him."

Harry decided to just cut to the chase. "The last time we saw Tom, he told us that you were interested in joining the DA."

"I didn't exactly know what this was, yet, but yes," Malfoy said. "I really would like an opportunity to practice some real Defence against the Dark Arts. Books are fine and all but there's only so much you can learn from them."

George snorted. "That said, I really think it's time that we move against Umbridge."

"I agree," Neville said but he started blushing heavily when people turned to look at him. "It's just that she… what she's doing is not right, is it? She's hurting people."

Harry's mouth fell open in shock. "What?" He had thought that the woman had been torturing him alone just because he didn't want to give in about Voldemort. He had never, in a million years, thought that she would be torturing others as well.

"Yeah," Neville continued. "I heard she used that quill on you as well a while ago. The blood quill."

While that, in itself, was bad enough. Harry was relieved to hear that that was all Umbridge was doing.

"It's absolutely barbaric, that's what it is," Malfoy chimed in. "But unfortunately, there's very little we can do about it now that she's become high-inquisitor."

"It's a made-up title!" Hermione exclaimed.

"True enough," Malfoy agreed. "But it's been approved and appointed by the minister. Made up or not, it's legitimate now. And if the high inquisitor wants to use dark items in her quest for… whatever it is she wants, then that's exactly what she does."

"We could try to curse her office," Fred suggested.

"Or coax wrackspurts into her hair," Luna added dreamily. "They would be able to change her mind. Quite literally, in fact."

"I say we hide dragon dung in every nook and cranny of the classroom," Ginny said. "A woman with her fine sense of smell –" she gestured haughtily, "would not be able to stand it for more than ten minutes."

"He will win who, prepared himself, waits to take the enemy unprepared."

Everyone turned as one to stare at Malfoy who just stood there, looking decidedly pleased with himself.

Ron was the first to comment. "Malfoy," he said. "Did you just quote 'The Art of War?"

"Why, Weasley, I didn't know you were interested in the written word," Malfoy said smugly. "I had expected that kind of reaction from Granger if I'm entirely honest."

Ron huffed. "All warfare is based on deception."

"Oooh, very good, Weasley," Malfoy said and Harry couldn't help but notice the flicker of genuine amazement. "Colour me surprised."

"Okay," Harry said slowly. "But what are the two of you talking about?"

"Oh, honestly Harry," Hermione said. "You really should read more. 'The Art of War'? You've truly never heard of it?"

"I never thought I'd say this but I agree with Granger, Potter," Malfoy said. "Maybe one of your friends should gift it to you for Christmas."

"Ron," Harry sighed. "Would you please just…"

"It's a book about strategy," Ron explained. "About how to defeat your enemy no matter the circumstances. It's really quite good."

"Correction," Malfoy said. "It's _the_ book about strategy. And I would think that especially someone with your circumstances, Potter, would have need of it."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Harry asked, instantly worried about what Malfoy could possibly know and how.

"Really?" Malfoy replied. "Only an idiot wouldn't notice just how much trouble you get into every year again. I very much doubt that this year will be different. In fact –" He took a step closer to Harry and sort of smirked at him. "You're probably already in deep trouble, aren't you?"

Before Harry could open his mouth to reply, Hermione had shoved Malfoy out of the way. "Back off, Malfoy," she spat. "Unless you want me to remind you of our third year."

The glare Malfoy shot at Hermione was deadly but the witch didn't stand aside. Instead, she met Malfoy's stare head-on, her arms crossed and her jaw clenched. Harry appreciated what she was trying to do – he really did – but this was not how he wanted the DA sessions to go. Malfoy came here in the hopes of learning… something at least and Harry was not about to chase him off.

"It's alright, Hermione," Harry said. "He's probably just feeling a bit uneasy, don't you think?"

"I'm quite capable of speaking for myself, Potter," Malfoy spat, though his eyes were still trained on Hermione.

"Malfoy," Harry said again, desperate to clear the air. "What did you mean earlier, when you quoted the book."

It seemed to work. Malfoy ran a hand through his blonde hair and broke away from the staring contest with Hermione. His tired eyes refocused on Harry, meeting emerald as he spoke. "What I meant was that there is no point in acting rashly," he said. "In order to strike against an enemy, especially one that has the higher ground, it would be far better if we managed to catch her off guard.

"Take for example a pack of hyena's. They hunt the same prey as lions do and are often at odds with one another. But hyena's – when well-prepared – can attack a pride of lions with a strategically sound manoeuvre and effectively chase them off, sometimes even killing them."

"Leave it to a Slytherin to make up an example in which lions get killed," Fred huffed but surprisingly, Ron shushed him.

"Right now, Umbridge doesn't really see any of us as a threat," Malfoy continued as if there had been no interruption. "Nor should she. There is no way that we can take her down. She has too much influence and pull with the minister. A little prank –" he eyed Fred and George. "Will do nothing but put her on edge. And since Potter has momentarily lost the lion share of his - shall we say - troops, this would not be in our favour."

Ron nodded vigorously. "We'd best be off organising our strengths and attacking her when we consolidated our forces. Take her down in one fell swoop."

"An organised attack," Malfoy confirmed. "One that leaves her with no chance to retaliate."

"Maybe there is something we can do to weaken her connection to the ministry," Ron told Malfoy. He seemed to be getting really excited all of a sudden. "Maybe we can find something. Something much worse than the blood quills. Something that the minister himself couldn't even bury."

Malfoy nodded. "Not a bad idea, Weasley," he said. "But that would mean –"

Harry couldn't even believe what he was seeing. And judging by the baffled looks on everyone else's face, he was not the only one. Ron and Malfoy were participating in a civil conversation without insulting each other even once. Could they really be setting their differences aside so easily? And over what? A book? Not even Hermione seemed to understand their sudden fascination with one another. And she was all about books!

"Right now is not the time, though," Malfoy said, crossing his arms and tapping his foot as he thought. "As I said, whatever the reasons or truth behind them, Potter has lost a great deal of his following."

"They won't stay away for long," Ron said assuredly.

"Tsk tsk, Weasley," Malfoy replied. "They will if you leave things the way they are, won't they? They will need to be convinced that they are wrong to think of Potter as a liar."

Ron groaned. "With the minister on Harry's back like that, that might not be so easy," he said.

Harry was shuffling closer to Hermione. "What's going on?" he whispered.

Hermione shook her head. "I really don't know," she admitted. "But I am quite fascinated, to be honest. I've always known that books can bring people closer together but this? This is quite unexpected." She casually chewed on the nail of her index finger. "I've half a mind to put a chessboard in front of them and watch what happens."

Harry snorted. "You'll have to do that some other time," he said. "We've already lost enough time and I still have a new spell I want to go over with everyone."

Ron and Malfoy were in the middle of discussing how Umbridge would have to give them the opportunity to defeat her, herself when Harry clapped his hands and put a stop to it.

"Malfoy, I am very happy that you are getting involved so passionately already," he said. "But at the moment, there is little we can do, as you both agreed."

Malfoy, who only now seemed to realise just how animatedly he'd been talking, blushed and looked away.

"I want to practice a new spell with you all," Harry said. "Are you willing to stay for that, Malfoy?"

Malfoy glanced at Theo who seemed amused, if anything and nodded. "Let's see if there's anything you can teach me, Potter," he said. But there was no bite to his tone. Only some mild amusement.

Harry was disappointed with the turnout but he wasn't willing to wait any longer. If everyone else was suddenly afraid of him, that was up to them. He couldn't dwell on them or let them bring him down. And of course, some of the people who didn't show today were victims of the latest Hogwarts tragedy.

Harry set his useless thoughts aside and turned to face his small audience. "The spell I want to show you all today is an elemental spell, meant to knock your opponent off their feet."

Harry had practised this one by himself a couple of times already and it was rather easy to get the hang of. It was not part of the Hogwarts curriculum and might, therefore, pose a surprise to any death eater after them.

Harry glanced at Malfoy. _Or whatever else they need defending against._

When no one commented or asked a question, Harry continued. "The wand movement is like so." He drew three quick circles, each one smaller than the last, after which he thrust it towards a dummy in the corner. "Ventus!" he said, articulating as clearly as he could.

Immediately, the dummy was lifted into the air, carried by a strong gust of wind. It was thrust back a couple of feet before it landed with a loud thud.

"This spell will likely not seriously harm your opponent," Harry explained. "Not unless they fall very poorly and break a bone in the process or something. But it is quick and will definitely surprise them. Follow it up with another spell and it will likely be able to hit immediately. And don't forget-" He fixed each of his leftover students with an important look. "Always be mindful of your surroundings and even a spell such as this can prove to be fatal."

"Now, pair up and let's practice," Harry said. "Malfoy, you're with me."

It was not that Harry didn't fully trust Malfoy. Well, there was that too but that was not the reason he wanted Malfoy to work with him. The truth was that very little of the people here could give him a good workout. Any time he had tried practising with any of his peers, he had easily dominated them within seconds. Somehow, he thought that Malfoy might be a better opponent that would actually require him to get his aim right and cast quickly.

Luckily, Malfoy didn't seem to take offence. He followed Harry to a spot in the middle of the room and assumed a defensive stance. His eyes shone with certainty and deep concentration.

_Good, he's taking this seriously._

Harry raised his wand and cast his spell. "Ventus!" And he missed. Malfoy ducked out of the way, just in time. The gust of wind had grazed the back of his robes but that hadn't been enough to lift Malfoy into the air. Before Harry could try again, Malfoy cast the same spell at him. He succeeded on his first try. That didn't surprise Harry since the spell really wasn't all that complicated, but the accuracy of it was astounding. He ducked to the floor to avoid the worst of it and rolled to the side when it had passed.

As quick as a cat, he sent another Ventus at Malfoy but the boy sidestepped hastily to avoid the wind again. As he whirled around his axis, he sent another spell at Harry who blocked it very narrowly. They were really getting into it now. They ducked and dodged; flew past other practising couples and sent spells toward one another in rapid succession. And suffice to say that Harry was loving every moment of it. _This_ was the kind of thing he had in mind when he thought of duelling. This was how one could truly advance.

A stack of papers scattered across the room as Harry dodged another one of Malfoy's spells. He locked eyes with the blonde for one second and realised that Malfoy was enjoying this match as much as he was. Vaguely, Harry recognised that the students around him had stopped practising and were now moving to the side just to watch Malfoy and Harry try to hit each other. Harry didn't mind. Much could be learned from watching a match such as this one. And Harry was relishing in the challenge.

Harry sent two Ventus' in quick succession Malfoy's way and laughed when the boy ducked down, but not fast enough to avoid a terribly messy hairdo. Harry chuckled and pushed himself off the wall with his right foot to avoid Malfoy's attacks once more.

"I'm going to get you for that, Potter," Malfoy spat but Harry could identify the pleasure in his voice all too well.

"Haven't you been trying to do that all along, Malfoy?" Harry jibed, grinning like crazy. "Bring it on, then."

Both of them cast the spell at the same time, the resulting gales colliding with each other. The wind blew every which way and some of the others were taking cover behind the puppets that stood at the ready throughout the room. Harry's hair and robes swept in the wind but he kept his eye on Malfoy. It had been a long while since he had felt this exhilarated. He dashed left at the same time that Malfoy dashed right. Papers flew haphazardly through the room as they moved and there was no sound except for their rapid footsteps and heavy breathing. The entire scene seemed to play out as if in slow motion. It was almost as if Harry could guess Malfoy's next step as if it came naturally to him.

"Ventus!" The wand movement came as fast as he had ever performed it because now, the situation called for it. Malfoy tried to move out of the way but Harry had guessed that he would do that and had aimed his spell accordingly. This time, it hit Malfoy square in the chest, causing the blonde to be upended into the air for a second before he fell to the floor. To prove his earlier point, Harry quickly followed the spell up with his trademark 'Expelliarmus' and caught Malfoy's wand as it easily left the hand of its owner.

"Bloody hell."

Harry turned to look at the small crowd that was watching him in awe. He raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Well?" he asked. "Why aren't any of you practising?"

"It was kind of hard with you two dashing all across the room!" Fred replied in accusation.

Neville seemed almost distraught. "I could never do something like that," he sighed.

Harry watched as Malfoy got up from the ground, checking to make sure that he wasn't hurt. Neville's comment drew his attention, though. "Yes you can, Neville," he replied earnestly. "I had a lot of… practise already, remember? I know that you can do this as well. You just need to practice more."

_A bit more self-confidence wouldn't hurt either._

"My wand, Potter?"

Harry casually dropped it into Malfoy's outstretched hand and smirked at him. "Better luck next time, Malfoy."

Malfoy – to his credit – didn't retaliate with a snide remark of any kind. All he did was mock-bow haughtily before fixing his hair back in place. At least he looked better than he had in the last couple of months, skulking through Hogwarts with his eyes focused on the floor he walked on. Harry supposed he wasn't the only one who loved a good duel. Even if this last one was focused on one spell only.

"Well, Fred, we're done dashing now," Harry said. "So go on. It's your turn."

If anything, his practice round with Malfoy had instilled some sort of spark in anyone else and soon they started practising. Harry noted that several of the others were also trying to dodge and block the spells thrown at them, attempting to copy Harry and Malfoy as they did. And while they would need a lot more practice to become effective at it, it was just nice to see them giving it their all like that.

Malfoy was now paired up with Hermione. Strangely enough, it appeared that it was the Slytherin who had made that choice. Or maybe she'd just been the last one left after everyone else had partnered up. It was no surprise, though, that Malfoy was able to land his hex on the first try, tossing Hermione into the air as if she was just another piece of paper.

"Well done," Harry complimented easily. Malfoy sneered but Harry didn't miss the small smile on his lips. The Slytherin could deny this all he wanted to but he was enjoying this. In Hermione's defence, she was able to land her own hex soon after, looking exceedingly triumphant as she did so.

It might have taken over an hour but soon, every last one of them was able to cast the spell. Even Neville had been able to catch his opponent off guard. Fred and George were soon having fun with randomly tossing each other through makeshift goals. But Harry didn't mind. Them becoming playful with it meant that they had gotten the hang of it. It was nice to see everyone temporarily forgetting their problems to focus on the task at hand. Only Theo seemed to still be out of it. As his partner – Michael Corner – walked off to watch the twins' antics, he stayed back and just stared as if not entirely sure on what to do next. Harry carefully approached him and leaned against the wall next to him.

"How are you holding up?" Harry asked. It was a stupid question, really, but he wasn't good at this sort of conversation. Nonetheless, he didn't want Theo to feel forgotten about and wanted to do his best to offer him a helping hand.

Theo shrugged uncharacteristically. "I'm alright, I guess," he said. "I just… didn't think that Tom would be taken, you know?"

Harry nodded. "We never expect the bad things to happen to those close to us," he replied. "For what it's worth, I really _am_ sorry this happened. Everyone here really came to like him."

Theo smiled. "Yeah," he said. "I often joked with him that he was a weird Slytherin what with him making friends in other houses and all."

Harry playfully bumped into Theo's shoulder. "Then, what does that make you?"

Theo sighed. "I'm… worried, Harry."

Harry nodded. "I know," he said. "But I believe that everyone that's been taken is fine and just waiting to be rescued."

Theo scoffed. "If that is so, I think that they may be sorely disappointed."

"Don't say that," Harry said. "I know for a fact that Dumbledore is looking into this."

Theo narrowed his eyes at a stone in the floor. "Well, he better look harder," he growled. "Because I hardly think this'll be the end of it."

"What makes you say that?" Harry asked.

"I don't know," Theo sighed. "But this is what it always feels like when something is going on at Hogwarts, you know? It's just not right."

"You're right," Harry said. "It's not. And I feel bad that I haven't paid more attention to it. I was… worried that it had something to do with me."

Theo chuckled. "You?" he asked. "That's ridiculous. You're Harry Potter."

"Yeah, I know," Harry said. He watched as Fred blew George through a ring of light that Hermione had conjured for them. "And I'll act better from now on."

"What do you mean?" Theo asked.

"If Voldemort is really behind this, he's doing it because of me," Harry said. The prophecy was still whirring in the back of his mind and even though he would like very much to deny it, he now knew the truth. "That means I have to do something about it."

It was true. Harry was ninety per cent sure that Voldemort was behind the disappearances. _He_ was the one named in the prophecy and _he_ was the one that was supposed to face off against Voldemort. There wasn't much he could do right now but he also couldn't just stand by and allow this to happen. Before, he had been struggling with more than just the idea that he was the one causing all of this misery. But now he was determined to find out what was going on and put an end to it.

"No, Harry," Theo said, stammering a bit, "I really don't think that's true. You said yourself that Dumbledore is looking into this. Do you really think you should do the same?"

"I do," Harry replied easily. "The more people are on the case, the better."

"You're a student," Theo said. "What do you think you're even going to do once you find out what's going on? You might be the next one to disappear if you do that."

Harry shook his head. "I can't just let this play out without doing anything about it," he said, honestly.

"You're impossible," Theo sighed. "How do your friends put up with you, really?"

"They usually come along," Harry said with a bright smile. "I honestly couldn't have survived all these years without them."

"Right," Theo said knowingly. "I've heard the stories."

Harry laughed. "You probably haven't even heard half of them."

"What's so funny?" Ron came over and cocked his head to the side in curiosity.

"We were just reminiscing about Harry's glorious past," Theo said.

Ron frowned. "Then you'll know not to follow him into the forbidden forest." He shuddered theatrically.

Theo took the bait. "Oh? And why is that?"

"Ron just doesn't do well with spiders," Harry said casually.

Ron huffed. "Doesn't do well with… Theo, do you know what an Acromantula is?"

"Yes, of course," Theo replied. "They're native to Southeast Asia."

"Oh, really?" Ron replied sardonically. "Tell that to the giant nest in the forest."

Theo glanced at Harry. "He's joking, right?"

Harry shook his head. "Oh no. Ron takes his spiders very seriously."

"Follow the spiders," Ron mumbled, still clearly not happy about the occurrences of their second year. "I'm never following a spider again."

Theo raised an eyebrow. "Words to live by… I guess."

"See what I mean?" Harry said. "No need to worry about me."

Ron looked at them both in suspicion. "Why?" he asked. "Harry, what are you up to this time?"

"Apparently, he thinks he'll be able to find out who's behind these disappearances himself," Theo said casually.

Harry huffed. _Traitor_.

"Yeah, that sounds about right," Ron said grimly. "Harry, shouldn't you just be focusing on trying to have a normal year, for once."

"I think that's no longer a possibility," Harry said. "And besides, it might be a good idea to get a student's perspective on all of this, don't you think? It's not as if any of the teachers have gone missing."

Ron sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I really think this is a bad idea, mate," he said. "But I also know that there's no stopping you once you've decided on something like this."

He looked at Harry, his blue eyes full of determination, and smiled. "You know I've got your back," he said. "Just don't… put me within an Acromantula's reach again, alright?"

"Ron, you don't have to –"

"I want to know what's going on as well, you know," Ron said. "I haven't forgotten about what happened to my sister when You-Know-Who…" he glanced at Theo. "In second year. He won't have that chance again."

In the back of the room, people were starting to pack up. Fred and George seemingly had enough of their new, fun activity and were now loudly telling stories about the time they almost managed to take one of Charlie's dragons for a ride.

"They would've been eaten if Charlie hadn't seen them in time," Ginny said. "Mum was furious!"

"She's always furious," George replied.

"Yes, with you two," Ginny said. "But none of us were allowed to go near the dragons again, after that."

"Come on, sis," Fred said. "You saw one last year, didn't you? Our very own Harry Potter even flew it around the castle for you."

"Yes, I'm sure he did that on purpose," Malfoy drawled. "But I'll admit that it was a very satisfying… scene."

"Har har, Malfoy," Harry said sardonically. "Not quite as satisfying as watching you with Buckbeak, though."

Malfoy snorted. "You got me there."

Harry frowned. That wasn't the response Malfoy was supposed to give. He was supposed to get all upset and talk about how horribly irresponsible Hagrid had been with that snooty voice of his. But, on the other hand, he supposed that Malfoy really had grown up. Harry could have sworn he almost detected a hint of remorse in those grey eyes when he mentioned Buckbeak. When he noticed that he had been silent for too long because of Malfoy's uneasy shifting, he clapped his hands together and looked at his leftover students.

"Right," he said. "I hope you were all able to learn a thing or two today."

Some murmurs of acknowledgement informed Harry of the affirmative.

"Good," Harry said. "I'm glad. Malfoy, you know that you're not supposed to talk about the DA, right?"

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Yes, Potter, I was already informed of that," he said. "Besides. This was actually fun. And a Slytherin would never risk exposing something they still have use for."

Harry raised an eyebrow as he took in Malfoy's amused smirk.

_Well, I guess that's as close to a Slytherin oath as I'll get._

"Then I'll see you all next time," Harry said. "Keep practising but stay away from Umbridge while you do so, alright?"

More affirmative murmurs.

With the help of the Marauder's map, Harry allowed small groups of two or three students at a time to leave the room of requirement. Malfoy left with Theo but not without subtly inclining his head in thanks as they made their exit.

Soon, he was once again left with only Ron and Hermione.

"Did you hear the latest?" Ron asked Hermione while Harry watched Malfoy and Theo retreat to the dungeons with his map.

"No, what?" Hermione asked.

"Harry wants to investigate the disappearances," Ron said, still sounding a bit sceptical.

Hermione laughed and Harry raised his head in surprise. "Well, that's about time," she said.

"Wait," Ron said. "What?"

"Well, of course Harry would want to do his own sort of research," Hermione said. "When has he ever been able to just sit back and relax while something bad was going on?"

Harry glanced at Ron who was staring at her with his mouth wide open.

"In any case, I'm rather glad that he finally wants to get involved," Hermione said happily. "It means we have our Harry back." Her brown eyes focused on Harry's emerald ones and she smiled when she met his gaze. Harry smiled back when he understood her unspoken words.

_Welcome back._

* * *

_Not sure what to tell you except: Please review ;)_


	35. Chapter 35

_A big thanks to everyone who reviewed and to my beta Pagemaster4TW. I hope you'll enjoy this next chapter as well._

* * *

**Chapter 35**

Harry was walking back from the Quidditch pitch with the rest of his teammates after a gruelling evening of practising. Despite the recent disappearances, Quidditch had not been cancelled and even though Crabbe and Goyle were now gone and Slytherin would need to find some replacement beaters, they were still scheduled to play Gryffindor in a few days' time.

"There is no way Slytherin will win," Fred said easily. "Look at us. We're easily the best team around!"

"Not to mention they don't have those goons with them," George added.

Harry didn't know what to think of that comment. Crabbe and Goyle were easily some of his least favourite people but their disappearances were still worrisome. And strange, if he thought about it. If Voldemort was really behind this, why would he be taking a couple of Slytherins whom he had to _know_ were on his side. Or weren't they? Harry sighed to himself. Quickly, everything he thought he knew for sure was being shrouded in doubt.

He was so deep in thought that when he rounded a corner, he registered the person standing behind it just a tad too late and crashed into them. He stumbled backwards a few steps but his 'bumpee' wasn't able to stay on their feet and fell down with a loud thud. Immediately, the rest of the Gryffindor team started laughing.

"Oh wow, you just earned yourself fifty points from Gryffindor, Potter," the angry voice from Zabini spat.

"Hey, you can't do that!" Angelina protested.

Zabini scrambled up from his awkward position and shot Harry a defiant glare. "Oh, I can and I will," he snarled. "I am, after all, a valuable member of the Inquisitorial Squad." He pointed to the badge he was wearing with as much pride as Percy had shown for his Prefect's badge. "If you don't agree, you can always take it up with Professor Umbridge."

"Or we go straight to Dumbledore!" Alicia exclaimed.

Zabini smiled crookedly. "Oh sure," he said. "You can do that, I suppose. But you'd better hurry. Something tells me he won't be… around for much longer."

A flash of white-hot rage overcame Harry. He lunged forward and grabbed Zabini by the collar of his robes, roughly pushing him into the stone wall. "What is _that_ supposed to mean?" he hissed. To his credit, Zabini didn't even flinch.

"Did I strike a nerve, Potter?" Zabini asked coolly. "My, your… loyalty knows no bounds."

"That's enough, Zabini."

A bit silly of them to put it like that since Harry was the one holding onto Zabini at the moment. Millicent Bulstrode and Pansy Parkinson walked up to them, their vicious stares burning into the Gryffindor team.

"Oh look," Fred said. "It looks like Umbridge's lackeys are almost all here."

George huffed. "Yeah, who is it you're missing again? Montague?"

"Potter, release Zabini this instant," Parkinson snarled. "Unless you want me to take some more points from Gryffindor."

Harry stared into Zabini's eyes for one long moment, their close proximity enough to keep the fires of his anger going. Zabini was infuriatingly calm and Harry could only imagine what his earlier comment had meant.

"Harry." A hand fell on his shoulder and Harry realised that there was nothing he could do. Not right now, anyway. But that didn't mean he didn't have a few choice words to say to the lot of them.

"You realise that you're betting on the wrong person here, I hope," he said. "We all know that Umbridge won't be here next year. But Dumbledore _will_ be." He glared at Zabini as if to challenge him to fight him on that statement. The boy just crossed his arms and glared right back. "I wonder how you'll fare then."

"Yeah, that's right," Katie said. "You'll pay for this."

Zabini snorted. "Really, your naivete knows no bounds," he said. "Haven't you realised by now that no matter what we do, we face the consequences of being Slytherins. Might as well give you a valid reason."

"Don't come at us with a sob story, Zabini," George said. "You're the ones always causing trouble."

"Oh yeah?" Zabini replied smoothly. "It wasn't us that opened the Chamber of Secrets, you know. If I recall, it was a certain Gryffindor redhead."

George was only barely able to restrain Fred from punching Zabini right in the nose.

"Another twenty points," Zabini said smoothly. "And do try to behave yourselves more. From here on out, we're levelling the playing field."

Harry scoffed. "Honestly, you finally get your hands on a bit of power and you use it for small things like taking away points. And here I thought Slytherins were supposed to be ambitious."

Zabini narrowed his eyes at Harry for one moment but didn't retaliate again. He gestured towards his female allies that he was done with the Gryffindor pack and walked past them, in the direction of the dungeons.

"Well that was sufficiently horrifying," Alicia said. "Don't let those goons get you down, team. They're just acting up because they know we'll win the game."

"Seventy points," George groaned.

"We'll get those back," Alicia said with unwavering certainty. "And then we'll show them, once and for all, just who's in charge here."

When Harry talked the encounter over with Ron and Hermione later, he was surprised to hear what Ron thought about it all.

"What we need, Harry, is a spy," Ron said.

Harry frowned. "A spy? In the Inquisitorial Squad?"

"Well, of course!" Ron replied. "It's obvious that they're up to something. And if they weren't lying, they're privy to information that we don't have."

Hermione nodded. "About Dumbledore, you mean," she said. "What do you suppose is going on there?"

"I don't know," Ron replied. "But it would be a lot easier to figure out if we had someone on the inside."

Harry understood what Ron was thinking. "Er… do you really think that would be a good idea, Ron?"

"_He_ says he's loyal to us," Ron said harshly. "If that's true, let him prove it."

"You're talking about Malfoy, aren't you?" Hermione said. "Don't you think that's a tad unfair? Forcing him to spy for us like that."

"He's already in the snake pit," Ron said. "It would make sense for _him_ to do it."

"What about Theo?" Harry proposed.

"That wouldn't work," Ron said. "Everyone knows that Theo likes to be neutral to all our inter-house rivalry. It would be really suspicious if he suddenly wanted to become a part of Umbridge's gang."

"I really don't think most people would think about it like that," Harry replied.

"Slytherins would," Ron argued. "And that's exactly who we're trying to fool, isn't it?"

"Still," Hermione argued. "Malfoy? What if he _can't_ be trusted. For all we know he's already spying on _us_."

"All the more reason for us to have him do this," Ron said earnestly. "If he _does_ have bad intentions, we would see through it more easily that way."

Harry thought about Severus and about how he was faring, spying for both sides. Voldemort didn't seem to take notice at all. On the other hand, Severus was extraordinarily cunning and Harry doubted that Draco could hold a candle to that. If his behaviour of the last months was any indication, he wasn't too good at hiding his emotions.

Unless that, too, was a ruse.

"I still think it's risky," Hermione said.

"He's already in the DA," Harry argued. "If he wanted to, he could already rat us out to Umbridge and see us all banished and maybe even expelled."

"Exactly," Ron said. "As much as I dislike that snake –"

_You seemed to get along pretty well during our last session._

"- I don't think he wants anything to do with Umbridge."

Hermione snorted. "You're just infatuated because he likes the same book as you."

Ron huffed irritably. "I can respect a good strategist as much as the next guy," he said. "And you do not get to tell me that anyone quoting any kind of book doesn't make you swoon."

"No," Hermione denied vehemently. "And I don't _swoon_."

Harry laughed. "Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?" he said, his voice all solemn and deep. After Severus had referred to Shakespeare's sonnet 18, he had actually gone and looked it up. It was pretty easy to remember. "Thou art more lovely and more temperate."

Hermione stopped him by cuffing him to the back of his head. "You'd be better off studying Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration!" she exclaimed, though Harry noticed that she was a bit flustered. "Now, if you could please just focus, are you really going to ask Malfoy to _spy_ for you?"

"I think it's a good idea, actually," Harry said. "We don't exactly have anything to lose, do we?"

"And what if he says no?" Hermione asked. "Malfoy might not be all too eager to tattle on his housemates."

"If he doesn't, that's alright too," Ron said. "If he honestly tells us that he doesn't want to spy, we'll know his true colours. And, honestly, I would trust him more for it. After all, if he was really working against us, he would grasp this opportunity with both hands."

"So if he agrees, you'll distrust him _more_?" Hermione asked.

"No more than I do now," Ron said. "It won't change any of my doubts. But it will give us another opportunity. Either way, posing this question is a win-win."

Harry thought that Ron's explanation made a lot of sense. "Honestly, Ron, if that is what you think is best, I'll trust you on that," he said. "I'll ask him next time we're alone."

* * *

Severus motioned for Harry to sit on the floor. He had moved aside the furniture again which made Harry wonder just how violent Legilimency could be.

"I must say that I'm rather impressed with the assessment of Mr Weasley," Severus told Harry as he flicked his wand to move aside a couple of chairs. Harry had explained to him what Ron's idea had been in relation to Malfoy and while it once might have seemed inconceivable to talk to Severus about anything that might put Malfoy at a disadvantage somehow, here they were. "But you do realise that you're playing with fire, I hope."

"All warfare is based on deception," Harry said, hoping that he repeated Ron's words correctly, lest he made a fool of himself. Severus glanced at him, an amused glint in his eyes.

"Did you just quote 'The art of War' at me?" he asked.

"Er… sort of," Harry replied. "I actually quoted Ron quoting it after Malfoy quoted another passage."

_Suddenly, 'quoted doesn't even seem like a word anymore._

Severus raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Is that so?" he asked. He sat down across from Harry and motioned for the boy to take his wand. "And why in the world did Mr Malfoy feel the need to quote ancient war texts?"

Harry leaned back on his hands. "It was in the DA," he revealed. "With all this training going on, it was er… bound to come up?"

"Was it?" Severus asked. He didn't sound all that convinced. "Am I to understand that Mr Malfoy is now a part of your group?"

"He is," Harry confirmed. "Though he hasn't been for long. So far, he's had one lesson."

Severus peered at him and Harry wondered what it was that he saw.

"Did you enjoy it?" The Potions Master asked.

Harry snorted. "What kind of question is that?"

"I was merely suggesting that Mr Malfoy might be able to give you a run for your money."

Harry snorted again. "Mr Malfoy," he repeated daintily. "I bet that you never called me '_Mr Potter'_ when you were discussing me with someone else."

Severus smirked. "What makes you think that I would discuss you so readily?" he asked.

Harry knew it wasn't the most mature thing to do but he stuck out his tongue. This time, Severus snorted in response. "A tad beneath you, don't you think?" he drawled. "Now, if there's nothing else, I would like to finally get started on your first Legilimency lesson."

_That makes one of us._

Harry clenched and unclenched the hand that wasn't holding his wand. He didn't really know why he was so nervous about this. But he was.

Whether it was because he picked up on Harry's thoughts or his body language, Severus must have realised that Harry was not looking forward to this because he asked, "Is something amiss?"

Harry shot him an incredulous look. "Only that my professor is asking me to break into his mind," Harry replied. "It just feels as if the balance is off, you know? It should be the other way around. This isn't right."

"It is fine, Harry," Severus told him. "You seem to forget that I am quite skilled at Occlumency. When you say you'll be breaking into my mind, you seem to be misunderstanding something. At least for now, I will be able to direct you where I want you to go. You will not see anything untoward."

_Like a Death Eater meeting._

"Exactly," Severus replied to Harry's unspoken thought.

"Okay," Harry replied, still sounding a bit wary. "But if something goes wrong and I do end up seeing a memory I shouldn't, you don't get to be angry with me, alright?"

Severus sighed. "Harry, if something goes exceedingly _right_ and you end up being so exemplary at Legilimency that you are able to view anything aside from what I explicitly wish to show you, I will not be angry. In fact, I would be quite pleased with you."

Harry chuckled. "Well, now you make me _want_ to pry beyond what I'm supposed to," he said lightly.

"Listen to my instructions first," Severus told him.

Harry sat up a bit straighter and focused all of his attention on Severus. This was the very first time they would try Legilimency. They had wanted to before but it had ended up in a fight for completely unrelated reasons. That might be why Severus hadn't pushed on trying it again for a while. But the man didn't want to wait any longer and now here they were.

"Legilimency is quite unlike Occlumency," Severus informed Harry. "Obviously, you don't need to build a shield of any kind. Therefore you will not need to focus on an element. Instead, you will be swerving past your opponent's defences in any way you can. Some prefer to use a subtle approach which works best for people unskilled in the art of Occlumency. But others – such as the Dark Lord – like to use brute force to enter someone's mind. It announces your presence but does allow for quicker entry. Even an Occlumens might not be fast enough to raise their shield when faced with such sudden power. Unless, of course, you have learned to raise at least a semblance of a shield at all times."

"This is starting to sound more like an Occlumency lesson," Harry pointed out.

"The arts of the mind are tightly interwoven," Severus replied. "It is difficult to imagine one without the other. As you'll recall, I've needed to use Legilimency to train you in Occlumency before."

"Don't worry, I'm not likely to forget," Harry said. "But how do I attack in the first place?"

"Unlike what was the case for Occlumency, that is entirely up to you," Severus said. "Picture whatever you wish to. To give you an example, when I probe someone's mind as subtly as I can, I imagine myself moving as a shadow."

Harry frowned. "And when you force your way in?"

Severus smirked. "I'm not about to tell you all of my secrets," he said. "But know that it is entirely valid to alter your tactic of entry depending on your opponent. When someone's wall of choice is fire, for example, you might force your way in by means of a waterfall or even an imagined Aguamenti."

"Oh," Harry said, "I get it. There's not really one set way of doing it. I just have to trust my gut."

"That's not entirely how I would put it," Severus said, "but yes. That is essentially the gist of it."

Harry smirked. Somehow, he was already feeling better about Legilimency. When it came to winging it and following your gut feeling, he was actually rather good."

"Don't underestimate the spell or your opponent," Severus warned him. "I'm happy to see you relax somewhat but don't think this will be easy. I expect you to do your best and not waver simply because you feel that you know what you're doing. The mind arts are dangerous to practice and require discipline."

"I get it," Harry said. "Yeesh, excuse me for feeling confident for a second."

Severus sighed. "Confidence is important. Overconfidence is dangerous. Try not to confuse those two."

"So," Harry said, eager to get things going, "do I just point my wand at you and shout 'Legilimens?"

"Shout, say, whisper, roar," Severus said sardonically. "As long as you pronounce it correctly, then yes. That is what you do. For your first attempt, I will not raise my shields. Wand at the ready."

Harry did so eagerly, lifting his wand to aim it at Severus general head area. He waited for the go-ahead.

Severus inclined his head ever so minutely but Harry took it as his sign. "Legilimens!" he shouted. Despite what Severus had said, he couldn't stop himself. He always felt that if he put more feeling into the spell, it worked better. And what better way to do that than to shout.

Smooth as butter, Harry cut through the thin barrier that separated him from Severus mind. He imagined himself as an incorporeal Patronus with silvery tendrils that could easily slip through an unknowing person's mindscape. Or, at least, he imagined that's how it worked.

He was surrounded by tall, stone walls and found himself in a corridor that went in one direction only. If he turned around, he would face another wall. Realising that Severus had told him that he would direct Harry towards a specific memory, Harry decided to let him. While it might be fun to try and get to some other memories, and prove to Severus that he could, indeed, do better than expected at this, he thought it was only polite to follow the man's direction for now.

So he went. He didn't lose the image of his Patronus as he moved and imagined that he was floating gently in the air. The ground beneath him contained about a foot of water that streamed very gently in the direction he was going. Harry smiled.

_Figures_.

**Focus and keep going.**

Harry was not surprised to learn that his connection to Severus was also valid in _his_ mind. In fact, it made him feel more familiar with the situation, even if he had never been in it before.

And then the corridor ended and opened up in some sort of grassy field that had to be in the middle of a town somewhere since there were houses all around them. A river streamed close by and Harry wondered for a moment if it was true to the memory or if it had something to do with Occlumency.

The sun was shining brightly and a large number of white, puffy clouds adorned the sky. Harry could see two figures lying down in the tall grass. One of them was a thin, black-haired boy with a very pale complexion. The other… Harry recognised her immediately.

_Mum_?

"Indeed. We were cloud gazing. It was something we liked to do on occasion." Harry turned his head to see the real Severus standing right next to him, gazing in the distance with a stoic look on his face. Harry wondered about that but imagined that, since they were now in Severus' head, he could probably not diminish his own presence. When he looked down to see if he had feet, Harry realised that he was still in that wispy form.

A warm breeze swept past Harry and he, once more, wondered if it was native to the memory or if Severus had something to do with it. Creeping closer, as if scared to disturb the memory in any way, Harry finally got a good look at the two children. They couldn't have been a day over ten. They didn't notice Harry standing there, because how could they, and instead were looking straight through him to look at the clouds.

"That one looks like a cat!" Lily said happily.

Harry turned his head to try and spot the cat-shaped cloud but couldn't see it.

"It looks more like a teapot to me," young Severus said in amusement. Harry had to agree. It didn't look like a cat at all. He sat down next to young Lily and looked up at the sky with them.

There was really nothing much to the memory. All it showed was Severus and Lily pointing out various clouds and arguing about what they looked like the most. Both children seemed entirely content to be hanging out with one another and Harry almost felt envious that Severus had been able to know Lily in such a way. After a long while, Severus' voice resounded in his head.

_Or is it in Severus' own head now? This is so confusing._

"If you'll recall, when I was inside one of your memories, I assumed the form of an object that seemed entirely at home in the scene. Right now, you are quite open and obvious."

Harry groaned inwardly. He wanted to see more. But he supposed that he was here to practice and Severus had already allowed him to just watch for quite some time.

Harry instantly knew what he could be.

_Er… do I ask you to look away or something?_

Even as he asked it, he knew the question was ridiculous. But Severus didn't laugh at him.

"As you disappear, that is all my mind will be able to pick up on unless I focus all of my attention on your… transformation. For now, I will not be doing that," he said.

_Right._

Harry looked around stupidly as if checking to see that no one could see him and then imagined himself as a beetle, hanging on to a long blade of grass. And in the next moment, that's exactly where he was. He was still very close to young Severus and Lily and scurried a bit closer to try and hide from the real Severus who was still standing there, now staring at the skies.

Harry wanted to laugh when he realised that he was essentially playing hide-and-go-seek with Severus.

"Very well chosen, Harry," Severus said after a moment. "To anyone less perceptive than I, a beetle would not look amiss in this particular scene. It is a shame that the kind you chose does not yet show itself in the month this memory takes place." Snape looked down and straight at Harry who instinctively scurried back a bit.

_Why do you have to know everything about everything?_

Severus kneeled and smiled. "It is to make certain that I am never caught off guard, no matter the circumstance," he said. "Now, that was very well done for a first attempt, I must admit. You may withdraw now."

Harry relinquished his beetle form and reverted back to his wispy form. He looked one last time at the memory that was left of his mother before accepting that he couldn't linger here forever. But, he also didn't want to stop.

_Can I try breaking through?_

Severus crossed his arms and regarded Harry solemnly.

_You implied that I could._

"I also remember telling you something about overconfidence," Severus replied. "Not too long ago, in fact."

_Yeah, but –_

"I believe that this is quite enough for now," Severus then said. "Next time you can try breaking through the first layer of my walls. If you succeed, you might be able to view more than what I'm directing you toward. Though I can't help but wonder what you're looking for."

_Top ten potion accidents?_

Severus chuckled. "Begone, cheeky child."

Harry felt a strong push against his mind that seemed to take his breath away. It almost felt like drowning. It was fortunate that it didn't last long and before Harry knew it, he was back in his own mind and body. Before he even opened his eyes, he felt that something was amiss. Out of place. He frowned and opened his eyes to see Severus smirking at him with glee.

"What are you smiling about?" Harry asked but before Severus could even respond, something shifted from the top of his head and fell into his lap. Three yellow ducks had apparently been balancing on top of it. When he moved to remove them, two more fell that had been on his shoulders.

"Hey!" Harry exclaimed, chuckling lightly. "What's the big idea? When did you even do this?"

Honestly, Harry was quite impressed.

"A true Occlumens can easily deal with a rookie Legilimens such as yourself rooting around in his mind without needing to assume a trance-like state," Severus said simply. "To occupy myself, I decided to find out just how balanced you are."

Harry picked up the largest rubber duck and looked at it. It was wearing a Slytherin scarf and was holding a wand in its folded wing. "How did I do?" Harry asked in amusement.

"I have to admit that you are quite grounded," Severus replied easily. "Next time, I might even attempt to stack them higher."

Harry snorted. "Next time, I won't give you the chance," he said. "You'll be too busy trying to repel me."

"Ah," Severus said, catching one of the ducks that Harry threw at him. "One can only hope."

* * *

Harry was sitting in Malfoy manor, calmly enjoying a wonderful wine that was part of Lucius' priceless collection. The raven-haired woman kneeling before him did so without issue. In fact, she seemed to truly enjoy being subservient to one as powerful as Harry was. Sure, her motives were rather plain and simple. No more than what could be expected of a child, in fact. But it was honest. And she was one of Harry's most loyal servants because of it. She patiently waited for Harry's cue and when he finally decided to allow her to get off her knees, she grinned gleefully as if she had just been praised by someone who meant the world to her. That was, of course, what he was. Her world. For that, he knew that she would not lie to him.

"I was hoping you would be willing to help me, Bellatrix," Harry said playfully. He enjoyed egging her on like this, gauging her every reaction.

As expected, she all but threw herself at him. "Anything, my Lord!" she exclaimed loudly. "Ask what you will of me. I will not hesitate."

_No, she never would._

"Quite a few years ago," Harry said, "I asked one of my followers, a relative of yours in fact, to take one of my most prized possessions and hide it away for me." Harry looked at his nails, feigning disinterest, even though his most recent discovery got his blood boiling. "Unfortunately, I recently learned that he was a filthy traitor that made away with my locket, leaving a fake one in its stead."

"No!" Bellatrix yelled. "Who was it, my Lord? I will punish him and get back what is rightfully yours!"

Harry cupped Bellatrix' cheek with his cold hand and smiled when she trembled. "Unfortunately, it is too late to exact justice," he said. "The perpetrator is already dead." Harry could see the curiosity in Bellatrix' eyes but knew she would not dare ask again.

"I speak of Regulus Black," Harry then informed her.

Bellatrix seemed at a loss for words for a moment. "My Lord," she then said. "What do you want me to do?"

Harry smiled. He had her exactly where he wanted her. "I need to know where he hid my real locket. And I would like for you to find it. Do so, and you will be rewarded greatly. Fail, however –"

"I would never fail you, my Lord!" Bellatrix interjected hastily after which she bowed her head to apologise for her disrespect. "I will find this locket and bring it back to you if it's the last thing I do. I will begin my search immediately."

"I believe there is yet one servant of his that is alive to this day," Harry said smoothly. "It might be able to give you a clue. He had a house-elf, did he not?"

"Yes, my Lord," Bellatrix replied easily. "Kreacher. A most foul elf, indeed, but he has always been very loyal to the house of Black."

"Then I assume you'll be able to make him see sense," Harry hissed softly. He was so close. He could practically taste his prize already.

"I will leave straight away," Bellatrix said. "With your approval, of course."

Harry waved his hand. "Go," he said. "Report back here as soon as you have it. And don't speak of this to anyone else."

"As my Lord commands," Bellatrix said, her tone gleeful and childlike.

"Oh, and Bella, dear," Harry said, pretending it was an afterthought. "Do hurry along."

"Yes, my Lord," Bellatrix said. With one last delightfully disturbed glance in Harry's direction, she took her leave to go hunt down the locket. Meanwhile Harry snapped his fingers to summon the resident house-elf and command it to bring him his supper. Not much longer now. His patience was wearing thin and he wished to speed things along. Perhaps he could invite Severus soon to see how his potion was faring. After all, he could not possibly proceed without it. And Severus would be the only one to be told to hurry it up.

Harry finished the last of his wine when his supper appeared on the large dining table. His glass was refilled as well. He lifted it in a mock-gesture of a toast before taking another sip. Ah, what glorious bounty. He would have to ask Lucius and Narcissa to cater to the victory feast when all was said and done. If they survived, that is.

* * *

_Ah yes. Things are coming together. Please let me know what you thought. And I should be able to update on Tuesday. Thanks for reading!_


	36. Chapter 36

_Hi all! Happy Tuesday! Thank you all for your reviews and please enjoy this next chapter._

* * *

**Chapter 36**

Despite what Harry had said in the past, he was kind of starting to get annoyed with his visions. Every time, the same thing happened. He woke up either soaked in sweat or blood from his scar; had to rush to Severus who would then either summon the headmaster or take Harry up to his office to then discuss the vision-dream at length during most of which, Harry didn't really understand what they were talking about and just sat there swallowed by his own thoughts, eager to go back to bed.

That's exactly how he found himself now, in the sitting room of Severus' quarters. Dumbledore was wearing another unsightly night robe that showed a cartoony version of the planets revolving through the galaxy. Harry wondered how the man could sleep at night with such vivid pictures to keep him up.

Harry glanced at Severus who appeared as annoyed as Harry sometimes felt when discussing things of import with Dumbledore. And for good reason. For once, Harry felt that Severus was now as much in the dark about things as Harry was. After all, the gathering of the ring and now the amulet was something that neither Harry nor Severus understood. Dumbledore, however, seemed to have at least an idea of what was going on.

"Severus, I've told you this before," Dumbledore said. "I can't inform you of my suspicions just yet."

"So you'd rather keep us in the dark until you know for sure?" Severus asked sardonically.

_Mighty convenient, that._

Severus glanced at Harry who just shrugged. It's not as if he would be able to convince Dumbledore to tell them all of his secrets.

"I don't wish to worry you unnecessarily," Dumbledore said.

"Forgive me for saying so, Albus, but that sort of sentiment has proven its fallacies to you before," Severus growled. "I haven't a clue what the Dark Lord would want with some trinkets but I know him enough to be able to assess the danger of his quest. And I know _you_ well enough to know that you think the same. You're simply as unwilling as he is to inform your subordinates."

_Uh oh. He's getting nervous again._

"Some burdens are not yours to bear," Dumbledore said kindly. He glanced at Harry and smiled at him. "And some are just too much to put on the shoulders of a child."

"No offence, Professor," Harry said, "but if you would give me the choice, I would rather you told me the truth here. Information is key, after all. Say you fall off the astronomy tower tomorrow –"

Snape groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose as if to indicate just how stupid that scenario was. And Harry imagined that it was stupid in many ways. But that was not the point here.

"Don't give me that, Severus," Harry said. "You know what I mean." He rolled his eyes and looked at Dumbledore again. "So not the astronomy tower but say that something happens to you. What then? No one will know of your suspicions and we'll be right back at square one."

"Ah, but Sybill has predicted that I still have many years ahead of me," Dumbledore said brightly.

"She also predicted my death on numerous occasions," Harry replied soberly. "So far, she hasn't exactly been right yet."

Dumbledore looked between Snape and Harry, his blue eyes twinkling like mad. And Harry couldn't help but feel that, even if they got the information they wanted, Dumbledore somehow won some sort of battle here. Knowing him, it had something to do with the budding relationship between Severus and himself. Oh damn, he'd called Severus 'Severus' in front of Dumbledore, hadn't he? That was probably not okay.

Harry glanced at Severus to see if the man was very annoyed with him but he seemed to be focusing all of his attention on Dumbledore.

_Maybe he didn't notice. Yeah. He was probably too preoccupied with getting Dumbledore to spill the beans. Oh crap, I should stop thinking things. Right now. And… Stop._

A twitch of Snape's eyebrow seemed to indicate annoyance and Harry just put up his Occlumency walls. He had bigger things to worry about right now, such as the fact that Voldemort was planning on summoning Snape. And not for a friendly visit. Dumbledore seemed to allow them their inward interaction – if Snape had indeed heard Harry's thoughts – by taking the time to unwrap a lemon drop that he conjured from one of his pockets.

"Albus," Severus then urged. "The items that the Dark Lord's fixated on. What do you believe they are?"

"Very well," Dumbledore then said. "But I must warn you that this is indeed merely a hypothesis and that I have yet to research the matter to the fullest of my capabilities."

"Understood," Severus replied. Harry merely nodded, eager to find out more but somehow also somewhat apprehensive.

"I believe that Voldemort has dabbled in something called a Horcrux," Dumbledore said. "More than one, in fact."

Harry frowned and glanced at Severus. He hadn't the first clue about what a Horcrux was and wondered if the Potions Master had a better idea. By the blank look on his face, Harry garnered that he didn't.

"I'm sorry, Sir," Harry said. "But what exactly is a Horcrux?"

Dumbledore sighed sadly. "It is an artefact created by dividing your soul after which a part of your soul comes to reside in the used item, effectively making it so that you cannot die when your physical body is destroyed." Dumbledore peered at Harry from behind his half-moon glasses. "I imagine that's why he didn't die when his killing curse rebounded on you that fateful night."

"I have never heard of such magic," Severus said.

"And I'm most glad that you haven't," Dumbledore replied. "For it is an artefact most foul and most dark. It is not something to be taken lightly. Not only does splicing one's soul do tremendous damage to their mind, but it also requires a horrible sacrifice."

"Murder," Severus said without skipping a beat.

"Quite so, I'm afraid," Dumbledore said.

"So I gather that you suspect that ring – as well as that amulet he's now after – are Horcruxes," Severus said darkly. "But if that's the case, why would he be gathering them now?"

"Maybe they're in danger from the ritual," Harry then said. Both Severus and Dumbledore turned to look at him with interest, as if – for a second – they'd forgotten that he was still there. "Maybe he needs them close by to… make them a part of whatever he's doing. He seemed to think it was quite urgent."

"Not an unsound theory," Dumbledore said. "One that I must confess has crossed my mind as well."

"Wait," Harry then said. "But if he's gathering these... er… Horcruxes in one place, won't that make him vulnerable?"

"Exceedingly so," Dumbledore said, nodding all the while. "Which must make this ritual very important to him, to take such a risk."

Harry's mind didn't stop whirring. "But, those Horcruxes need to be destroyed, don't they?" he asked. "If we want to… er… kill him, eventually."

"They do," Dumbledore replied.

"Well, correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't this an amazing opportunity for us?" Harry said, now nearly jumping up and down in his seat. "They'll all be at the same location!"

"And we don't know where said location is," Severus interjected. "Nor do we know the defences the Dark Lord will establish to protect said items or how many there are in total. And we don't even yet know if that is what these items are."

"You're quite right, my boy," Dumbledore said. "We don't. Which is why I advise strongly against any action from you, Harry."

Harry scoffed. "What would I even do?"

He didn't miss the twinkle in Dumbledore's blue eyes. "You always seem to find something," he said.

Harry didn't think that was exactly fair when Dumbledore himself had given him the means to interfere in third year and hadn't done a thing to get him out of the Triwizard Tournament in fourth year.

"For now, it will do to keep exploring these visions with us, Harry," Dumbledore said, smiling kindly. "You could have far worse counsel to assist you if I do say so myself."

"I suppose that's true," Harry conceded.

"I will, of course, continue researching these matters," Dumbledore said. "I'll speak with Sirius and see if we can't intercept Bellatrix' quest for the house-elf. If we can acquire this item, we will surely come to know a lot more."

Harry nodded. That seemed like a good plan to him. "What about Severus?"

There, he went and did it again. Oh well, it's not as if Dumbledore hadn't noticed it the first time.

"What _about_ me?" Severus asked gruffly.

"Didn't you hear what I said before?" Harry asked, perplexed. "Voldemort is upset with you. He wants to know why the potion isn't ready yet. I could feel that he was… angry."

Severus did his best to school his expression but Harry recognised the twinge of fear in his eyes. "There is not much to be done about that, I'm afraid," he replied. "As it is, the Dark Lord will not kill me. He has a clear need for this potion and for me. At most he will –"

"I don't want him to hurt you in any way!" Harry objected, jumping out of the chair he had been sitting in. "I don't understand why you have to keep doing this. We have my visions now."

"Your visions do not give us nearly enough information," Severus growled loudly. "I knew what I was getting into when I agreed to this. Do not think that I would shirk my duties so easily just because there's a promise of pain in my future."

"Severus," Dumbledore said calmly. "If I may interject. You know that I, too, would prefer that you no longer continue your order duties in quite this fashion."

"And you know that I cannot agree to that," Severus replied coldly. Dumbledore and Severus stared at each other for a long moment and Harry wondered if there was some Legilimency at play. After a while, Dumbledore sighed and looked away.

"If only you could see that you've already given too much," Dumbledore said.

"That's only true in the eyes of an eternal optimist such as yourself," Severus replied dryly. "I, however, do not quite see it that way."

"Well, maybe you should have your eyes checked," Harry growled nastily. "I don't know what you're trying to prove here but getting yourself tortured by a megalomaniac crazy person that might or might not have split his soul into dozens of tiny pieces is something that no one deserves!"

"Don't speak of things you don't understand, boy," Severus hissed.

Harry visibly recoiled at the moniker. He'd always hated being called that but he knew that Severus couldn't possibly know that. Harry licked his lips in an automatic show of anxiety and sat back down to try and appease his professor. "I'm sorry," he said softly.

Severus leaned his head into his palm and released a long-suffering sigh. "I apologise," he said. "I didn't mean to sound so cross."

"It's alright," Harry said, still maintaining a soft speaking voice. He didn't even know why he was doing it; He just hoped not to make Severus even angrier than he already was.

"I suggest that we drop the matter," Dumbledore said placatingly. He put a hand on Severus' shoulder in comfort. "It's late and I'm certain that everything will look a lot brighter with a good night's sleep behind us."

Harry doubted that very much but still nodded at Dumbledore.

He and Severus both rose from their seats to go back to Severus' quarters when Dumbledore spoke again. "Oh, and one more thing, Harry," he said. "You'll understand that the information about Horcruxes, whether it proves correct or incorrect, is best not shared with anyone else. Not even Mr Weasley and Ms Granger."

"I understand," Harry said obediently, wishing that they would be excused already. He was so done with this day and wanted nothing more than to curl up underneath his covers and just go to sleep. Maybe he could sleep the week away.

They flooed back to the dungeons and Harry immediately walked towards his room.

"Harry," Severus said sharply. "I cannot give up my spying duties for reasons I am not comfortable to share with anyone."

Harry half-turned and stared at the dark man for a long time, neither of them blinking as they regarded the other. "For someone convincing me that I should want to live, you don't act like someone who wants to do so himself," Harry said sadly. He shook his head twice and didn't even wait for a reply before further retreating into his room and shutting the door with a soft click, leaving a stunned Severus in his wake.

* * *

When things went bad, life almost seemed intent on making them worse for Harry. He had been moping throughout his first classes, drawing odd glances from his teachers, when word reached him that another student had gone missing. It was somewhat upsetting how little of an upstart it had caused this time. It was almost as if people were getting used to it. In fact, if Ginny hadn't told him about it at lunch, he probably still wouldn't have found out.

She was crying as she brought the news, hiccoughing through her tears. "The last time I saw him was early this morning, while everyone else was still asleep!" she wailed. "We had just gotten points docked for snogging – since that's apparently against the rules now – and then headed to our own house. I can't imagine what happened!"

Harry frowned. "Who docked the points?" he asked carefully.

"It was Parkinson," Ginny sniffed. "After she told Michael that he could do better than a… a Weasley!"

Ginny turned her head to cry on Hermione's shoulder as Harry mulled that over. Michael Corner. Only one person this time. While Harry had not been his biggest fan, the boy had always shown up to every DA session. Knowing that another one of the members had been taken felt like a personal affront to him. And while he knew that Ron pretty much despised Corner for snogging his sister, he could tell that even _he_ was upset with the news.

"I never thought I'd say this but I can't believe the school hasn't shut down yet," Harry whispered to his friends.

"Well, it wouldn't matter, would it?" Hermione replied.

Harry frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Well, people have been disappearing outside of Hogwarts as well," Hermione said. "Have been for a while now."

"You're joking!" Harry exclaimed, swiftly hushing his voice again when people turned to look at him. "Why do you think so?"

"It's… sort of been in the paper," Hermione said.

"Sort of?" Ron asked. "What do you mean, sort of?"

"Well, it's not like they ever wrote a big story about it," Hermione said. "But rather small segments hidden between larger sections of the paper. They never once connected them to each other but they all seem to resemble each other."

Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing. "In what way?"

"There is never a sign of struggle," Hermione told them. "The disappearances are always… clean. It's almost as if they just left and never came back."

Ron narrowed his eyes. "If you're right, it looks like they're covering up."

Harry scoffed. "Does that surprise you?" he asked. "Fudge doesn't want to admit that Voldemort is back in the first place. If it becomes obvious that this is happening, people will start to believe me rather than him."

"That might be the reason Hogwarts hasn't closed yet," Hermione pointed out. "Fudge wants to avoid a panic."

"He wants to avoid people realising that he's full of it," Ron huffed. "And somehow, he's succeeding."

"Why didn't you say something before?" Harry asked Hermione.

"It's not as if I was sure of it," Hermione replied. "Like I said, the articles really were hidden. When I realised the larger connection, I had to go back and check to make sure."

"But why put it in there at all if Fudge doesn't want this out there?" Harry asked.

"Because the family members of the victims wouldn't allow that," Ron said easily. "It's a way to placate them."

"Do you think they're connected to the disappearances here at Hogwarts?" Hermione then asked.

"Must be," Harry replied. "I just can't believe that it's all a coincidence."

Harry glanced at Umbridge who was making small talk with Professor Vector. She had stopped pursuing Severus for… whatever she had envisioned for him and was now trying to get closer to some of the other teachers. It was clear to everyone but her that she was received rather coldly. Only the polite ones continued to indulge her and Severus was not one of them.

Harry expertly dodged meeting Severus gaze, though he wasn't sure if the man was even looking at him at the moment. They had parted rather awkwardly that morning, with Severus handing Harry his wand without saying a word and Harry reciprocating equally. It was not as if Harry was truly angry or anything. No, if he really thought about it, he was just plain upset. He meant what he had said to Severus, even if it now sounded a bit cruel in his own ears. But it wasn't fair for this man to keep gambling his life away. Every time he went to visit Voldemort, Harry felt as if he was flipping a coin, hoping for a good outcome every time. Harry feared, though, that the coin would one day land on the other side and Severus' life would expire.

Thinking about it made him upset all over again. Dumbledore didn't even want Severus to spy anymore. It was clear as day! And if the Supreme Mugwump didn't expect that level of servitude anymore, why the hell did Severus insist on keeping his duties? But, of course, Harry could not actually argue the point with the man because he was keeping secrets that he was not about to share with Harry.

Harry sighed as he shoved his plate away. It wasn't fair. But it was also a tad ridiculous. What right did he have to the secrets of Severus' life? What right did he have to tell the man to stop doing what he was doing? None at all.

"Harry," Ron said. "You're shutting us out again. Tell us what's wrong."

Harry glanced up to see both Hermione and Ron look at him in concern. He supposed they would be looking out for him for a while longer, even if he felt alright nowadays.

"I kind of had an argument with Snape," he confessed.

Ron glanced at the head table in confusion. "Oh?" he asked. "Isn't that… normal, though? I mean, I know he's better to you now and all but I can't imagine him not arguing at all."

"He doesn't actually argue a lot," Harry replied. "I think that when he's in his own quarters, he's kind of set on his peace and quiet."

"Maybe he's under a lot of strain," Hermione suggested. "I'm sure that, whatever happened, he didn't mean it that way."

Severus _was_ under a lot of strain. Harry knew that. It wasn't as if he didn't notice the dark spots underneath the man's eyes or the way he sometimes stayed up late until the most ungodly of hours. Severus spent a lot of his time in his own potion's lab, only emerging to occasionally eat, if that. When he was reading in the sitting room, it was a book to do with potions. And though Harry suspected that the man did have a love for his field, he could see his growing apprehension and doubt as he learned more about whatever process he needed to go through to do what Voldemort wanted. Harry hated that he couldn't do anything to help. And he hated that Snape forced this on himself when he didn't need to.

"Harry?" Hermione prompted after his elongated silence.

"He is," Harry then replied. "Under a lot of pressure, I mean. But the thing is that he doesn't have to be. But he insists. And that's why I'm upset with him."

"Oh," Ron said. "Does this have to do with his… other duties?"

Harry nodded sharply.

Hermione smiled gently and put one of her hands on top of Harry's. "It's nice to see that you care about him so much," she said.

Harry clenched his jaw as he helplessly tried to stop the feeling of his vulnerability from surfacing.

"There's no need for all that," Ron chimed in when he clearly noticed Harry's struggle. "We understand how you feel. Really. It's actually quite normal, we think, after…"

Harry sighed, not wanting to think about the Dursleys.

"Look," Hermione said, "if you're worried to talk to him, we can come with you."

Harry chuckled bitterly. "I can't imagine _that_ going over well."

"If it helps, _he_ looks miserable as well," Ron said softly. "And it's not because Umbridge is sitting next to him, I don't think."

"It's because of his stupid brewing," Harry growled. "Why did he have to be a Potions Master anyway? Why couldn't he have been the Arithmancy Professor? Or heck, even have the Defence against the Dark Arts position?"

"I imagine it's something he likes doing," Hermione replied soberly.

"Not this way, he doesn't," Harry snarled. He watched as his friends' faces turned sad and leaned closer. "Look, I'm sorry," he said. "But it's all of these things. The disappearances; the potion; the visions. There's even other things I'm not allowed to tell you about! And they're all connected somehow. It's… hard to keep focus on one thing while I'm trying to juggle them all equally here. Worrying about Snape is the last thing I need but I… I can't help it. I _am_ worried. And he doesn't understand!"

"All the more reason to talk to him, Harry," Hermione said. "Ignoring the problem isn't going to make it go away."

"For once, I would really like it to," Harry said.

"I don't know what to tell you, Harry," Ron said smartly. "But it comes with the territory."

Harry frowned. "What do you mean?"

Ron shrugged. "Think about it," he said. "Don't you think _I_ worry about mum and dad? They're both in the order and perceived as blood traitors by Lord Snake himself. And I'm sure Hermione's worried about her muggle parents."

"Er…" Harry said, "What are you implying?"

Ron raised an eyebrow in a way that resembled Severus far too much. "I'm not saying that he's your parent or anything," he whispered. "But it would be damn easy to mistake him as such sometimes. And it's not as if you don't play your part either."

Harry really didn't know how to react to that so he settled for stunned silence. His instincts told him to act shocked and even appalled. But he knew that he cared for Snape and despite their occasional grievances, he knew that Snape cared for him as well. They didn't have a parental relationship, though. Snape was more of a… mentor to him. He told his friends as much.

"I don't know, Harry," Ron replied. "You're staying in his quarters for now where he's watching over you. And it's not as if he's teaching you more about potions."

"He's teaching me Occlumency and Legilimency," Harry countered though he realised how weak his argument was.

"Yes, because he wants your mind protected," Ron supplied. "He wants _you_ protected."

Harry huffed. "Since when do you know so much about these sort of things?" he asked.

Ron grinned. "I have five brothers and one sister," he said. "And I've watched my parents worry about all of them. And me, of course." After thinking, Ron added, "I suppose my older brothers also act parental sometimes. But that's just what you get in a big family."

"He's my mentor," Harry insisted. "This is just a special situation. He would have done the same for you if you had any visions from Voldemort… among other things."

"Perhaps," Ron allowed. "But now that he's come so far, I doubt he's able to look at you the same way."

Harry bit off a piece of bread to be able to not reply to Ron while he mulled this over.

* * *

By the end of the day, Harry didn't really feel like going back to Severus' quarters just yet. So, instead, he headed to the library with Ron and Hermione to get started on his Charms essay. It was actually nice to do this with his friends again, even if he could enjoy the occasional evening of him studying in front of the fire while Severus supplied him with tea and biscuits.

While Harry was trying his best to determine the four magical compounds to a cheering charm, Ron was easily getting distracted. "Only two more days until our big match," he whispered to Harry. "Gryffindor against Slytherin. Aren't you psyched?"

Madam Pince hushed them from behind her desk and Harry shot Ron an apologetic look. Truth be told, he _was_ looking forward to the match. It surprised even _him_ to admit that. It was… refreshing, really to have found his love for Quidditch again, even if he didn't quite know how.

Hermione was scribbling away and Harry chanced a glance at what she was writing. Unfortunately, she was still working on the introduction which was always exceedingly long in her case. Harry glanced around the library and saw a few other students sitting there. A couple of Ravenclaws, as studious as ever, were hosting a little study group and some of the Slytherins sat in the corner, working on the same essay Harry was working on, by the looks of it. Theodore Nott sat amongst them and when he caught Harry's eye, he briefly smiled before turning back to his work with a sigh.

A girl from Hufflepuff he didn't recognise sat by herself, surrounded by a mountain of books. As for the Gryffindor house, well, Harry and his two best friends were the only ones present.

When it was nearly time for curfew, Harry reluctantly packed his bag and stood at the same time as his friends. By then, the Ravenclaws and Slytherins had already cleared out.

"We can come with you if you want," Hermione offered again.

Harry shook his head. "That's alright," he said. "But thanks for offering."

As always, Harry accompanied his friends to the Gryffindor tower so he could take the floo to Severus' chambers. No matter how well they got along now in secret – well, for most of the time – it would still not do for the Slytherins to catch him prowling the dungeons near curfew. Who knows what they'd do. Well, those who still had it in for him, that is.

The flames had barely shrunk down again when Severus' voice pierced the quiet. "Where have you been?" he asked coldly.

"Studying in the library," Harry replied evenly. "You can ask Madam Pince if you don't believe me."

Severus regarded Harry for a moment, then shook his head. "That won't be necessary," he replied. "Though I would appreciate some forewarning next time."

Harry huffed. "I wasn't out past curfew," he said. "So I don't see what the problem is."

Severus put down the book he had been reading with a sharp snap. "You know very well what the problem is," he said. "Do you truly wish me to explain the reasons to you in full? I imagine it will not be pleasant for either of us."

Harry's sense of awkwardness quickly translated into anger. "I know, alright?" he exclaimed. "But it's been months! I haven't done anything like it and you still won't let me have my wand or my cloak!"

"That cloak is nothing but a means to your rule breaking," Severus replied evenly.

"So you're planning on keeping it forever?" Harry asked, a bit stunned. "If Dumbledore trusts me with it, you should too!"

"Harry," Severus said sternly. "What is this really about? You haven't been behaving normally ever since last night."

"Well, what do you think it is?" Harry asked boldly.

Severus quirked an eyebrow, something that really irked Harry at that moment. "Please do enlighten me."

Harry slumped against the wall, the strap of his bag still loosely in his hand, even though the bag was on the ground by now. "Why do you still have to spy?" he asked softly. "If even Dumbledore told you that you can stop."

Severus sighed. "I don't mean to cause you any additional distress," he said. "And if my chosen occupation does so, I truly apologise but I can't stop now."

"Why not?" Harry demanded.

"Whatever the Dark Lord is planning at the moment, it is something important. Something that will likely set the tone for the rest of this war. If there ever was a time to stop spying, now is not it."

"No time like the present," Harry quipped.

"A ridiculous notion," Severus replied. "No, the present is the worst time in this case. However… I would be willing to consider your wishes after we find out all there is to know about this ritual. But not before."

Harry glanced hopefully at Severus who was regarding him carefully. "Do you promise?" he asked. "You're not just trying to Slytherin your way out of this, are you?"

"I am not," Severus replied. "And perhaps, in due time, you'll understand why I have to see this through." Severus seemed kind of reluctant as he said that. "As for now, I merely ask of you to trust me."

Harry doubted for a moment but decided that that was probably the best he would get. "Alright," he said. "You already know I trust you so that was kind of a low blow." He meant it to come out as a joke but it sounded more hurt than Harry had meant it.

Severus put a hand on Harry's shoulder and carefully coaxed him towards his bedroom. "Go get some rest," he said. "It's been a long day and you haven't gotten nearly enough sleep yesterday."

Harry was halfway in his room when he turned back to Snape, holding out his wand. "Here," he said.

But Snape merely looked at it before shaking his head. "You're quite right, Harry," he said. "I believe that we have reached a stage in your recovery in which you should be allowed to keep your wand. Especially in these times, it would probably be for the best."

A little bit stunned, Harry dropped the hand that held his wand.

"As for your cloak," Severus continued. "I will re-examine my position on it in a few weeks or so."

That was probably as good as it was going to get for now. "Thanks," Harry muttered, not really knowing what else he could say.

"You're welcome," Severus replied. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Yeah," Harry said, still staring at his wand. "Good night."

* * *

_So, what do you all think? Please let me know in a review and I'll see you all on Friday._


	37. Chapter 37

_A big thank you to everyone who reviewed. It really is appreciated._

* * *

**Chapter 37**

Severus wasn't there when Harry woke up. But since he had his wand with him and didn't actually need Severus for anything else at that moment, he just shrugged off the man's absence and took the floo up to Gryffindor tower. He stepped out in the midst of the normal hustle and bustle of the Gryffindors. Hermione and even Ron were already up and waiting for his arrival, as they had since this whole messy thing started.

"One more day until the Quidditch match!" Ron greeted Harry.

"Good morning to you too, Ron," Harry replied in the same tone of voice. He then winked at Hermione who laughed silently from behind her hand.

Ron's animated talk continued as they started heading to the Great Hall. "I bet that Snape's all in shambles about this," he sniggered. "I mean, he's a pretty clever bloke. He should realise just how bad his chances are. Honestly, did you _see_ the new Slytherin beaters? They're almost as small as Harry! There's no way they can measure up to Fred and George."

"I wouldn't underestimate them if I were you," Hermione said sternly. "They might be better than you think."

"Ah, right you are," Ron agreed as he crossed his arms pensively. "But, truth be told, our chances would still be brilliant even if they _did_ still have Crabbe and Goyle. Their replacements shouldn't be better than them."

The speculation and boasting continued until they finally sat down at the Gryffindor table. Automatically, Harry scanned the high table for Severus and immediately noticed a couple of things he was not happy about.

Dumbledore and Severus were standing a few feet away from the high table, towards the back of the hall, clearly discussing something of importance. Severus seemed almost angry while Dumbledore just seemed resigned. The fact that no one could hear the two of them talk meant that they had made sure that there was some magical interference. But Severus' sharp movements were clear as day to Harry. In stark contrast, Umbridge sat daintily at the high table with her napkin tucked into her collar and the largest smile on her face that Harry had ever witnessed from her. She casually buttered a slice of bread and was even making pleasant small talk with Trelawney, whom everyone knew the toad woman despised. Professor Sprout seemed deeply upset about something and was as quiet as Professor Flitwick next to her. In fact, most of the staff sat there all quiet and withdrawn with the exception of Umbridge, Trelawney – who was just too airy to understand the gravity of anything – and Filch.

Then, McGonagall walked over to the two arguing men and rather than break them up – as Harry had suspected she would – she joined them in their discussion and seemed to aim her own tirade at Dumbledore.

"That doesn't look too promising," Hermione said as she sat down. "Did Professor Snape mention that anything was wrong?"

"I didn't see him this morning," Harry said. "But yesterday he seemed fine. Ish." Harry remembered their brief fallout but was pretty sure they ended on a positive note. No, whatever this was, it shouldn't have anything to do with him.

"I really don't like the grin on that toad," Ron growled. "What do you suspect is going on?"

Before Harry could voice any of his unfounded suspicions, the screeching of a parliament of owls filled the room as the first of the flock descended into the great hall. Hedwig wasn't among them but a large masked owl swooped overhead, dropping the Daily Prophet onto Hermione's plate before making a majestic U-turn only to disappear again. Several other owls dropped the same kind of lecture in front of a variety of students who were all eagerly awaiting their daily gossip. Absolutely horrible drivel, Harry thought it was. But he supposed that people with a brain like Hermione's would be able to read the real news from between the web of lies and deceit professional reporters like Rita Skeeter spun.

Hermione gasped. "Oh no!"

"What is it?" Harry asked as he still kept an eye on a now very distressed looking McGonagall. Severus, by now, seemed to be as resigned as Dumbledore.

"Read it," Hermione said, her voice quivering somewhat. She shoved the paper towards Harry, indicating the page she wanted him to read. Her indication was unnecessary, though, as the article in question was the front page, its title in big, bold letters.

_**Hogwarts Headmaster Under Scrutiny**_

_The ministry has received an increasing number of complaints in regards to the disappearance of children currently boarding at Hogwarts. Twelve, in total, have gone missing. Many people like to see Hogwarts as a safe place where nothing could possibly harm its inhabitants but this year, even more so than others, has proved this notion to be untrue. Minister Fudge believes that the issue lies, first and foremost with the headmaster Albus Dumbledore. When we asked him to give a statement on the matter, he had the following to say: "Albus Dumbledore has loyally safeguarded Hogwarts for many a year. Unfortunately, it would appear that, due to old age, he is no longer capable of upholding his own high standards. It is my regret and my obligation to alleviate my old friend of his duties."_

_It is still unclear who the minister has in mind as a replacement but it is safe to say that things are looking up for Hogwarts. We can only hope that the damage that has been done up until this point can still be corrected._

Harry was furious! Despite his recent concerns about Dumbledore, he was absolutely livid in the headmaster's stead. They dared shove him aside so easily? And they blamed it on old age? Fudge had an awful lot of nerve, saying something like that. It was no wonder that Severus and McGonagall looked so distressed.

Hermione's head was somewhere else. "Twelve?" she asked aloud. "I've only counted eleven so far. Who's the twelfth?"

Ron's head was exactly where Harry's was going next. "And why does Umbridge have that gleeful smirk on her face. I _really_ don't like where this is headed."

More and more people had read the article by now and loud murmurs and angry exclamations started to fill the hall. Dumbledore, who now noticed that he was quickly becoming the centre of attention, ushered Severus and McGonagall back to their seats before standing in front of the table to address the student body.

Only, he didn't get the chance to.

"That won't be necessary, Dumbledore," Umbridge said sweetly. She, too, was now standing and calmly coming up to stand next to the much taller wizard. The other teachers were all glaring at her with true hatred in their eyes.

"I wish to speak to my students, Dolores," Dumbledore said. "And, quite frankly, I fail to see how you would stop me from doing so."

"They're not your students anymore," Umbridge quipped triumphantly.

"Until the moment I receive official notice from the Minister himself, I'm quite happy to say that they very much are," Dumbledore replied.

Umbridge seemed slightly taken aback but still happy. She gestured magnanimously as if she were allowing Dumbledore his speech. This angered Harry even more. Who was she to think that she could tell Dumbledore what he could and couldn't do? Dumbledore didn't seem to dwell on the affront, though, and simply did what he said he was going to do.

"Beloved children," he said.

"I can see that some of you have already received news on the new state of affairs here at Hogwarts. Yes, unfortunately, I must confirm the truth."

Loud objections started to come from every table – even the Slytherin one – when Dumbledore raised his hand to silence everyone. And yet he smiled.

"I thank you all for your consistent loyalty and I promise you that this change is not permanent." Umbridge bristled next to him but Dumbledore ignored her. "As always, things will right themselves in the end. But for now, I fear that the Minister has some concerned individuals to appease. I am very happy to be able to leave you all in the capable hands of the professors who have taught you all for so many years. They will be on your side no matter what. Have faith in that."

Harry couldn't help but hear the unspoken message that the other teachers would help the students face the tyranny of Umbridge that would probably be the result of this horrible decision.

"But have faith in each other, as well," Dumbledore continued. "House unity is something that I've always longed to see, as I know have many of my colleagues. I am exceedingly pleased that, this year, we appear to be closer than ever." Dumbledore's blue eyes locked onto Harry's for a brief moment and Harry could sense a gentle presence pushing at the edge of his mind. Not to read his thoughts but to project comfort. To let him know that his efforts were appreciated.

"Together, I am absolutely certain that you will come out of this tribulation much stronger than before. Each house has its strengths and when you combine those, you will be able to do great things." Dumbledore looked at the Slytherin table with a broad smile and Harry noticed that a lot of the Slytherins looked skittish or abashed. A few of them didn't seem concerned at all, though.

"You may wonder what has brought this on, all of a sudden," Dumbledore then said. "And it is my deepest regret to inform you that, sometime last night, a twelfth student has indeed been taken from this school. Leanne Warlock, who belonged to Hufflepuff house."

Harry frowned, trying to recollect who that was but Hermione slapped a hand in front of her mouth. Harry looked at her in confusion but she gestured that she would explain later. Ron, in the meantime, seemed to be gripping his goblet so tightly that Harry thought it might break. His fierce gaze was locked on to the headmaster and his jaw was clenched as if he was keeping himself from yelling in outrage. Umbridge made a show of tapping her foot impatiently but Dumbledore ignored her.

"Whatever else, I have no choice but to admit that I have, indeed, failed twelve of my students," Dumbledore said. "If replacing me will put an end to the disappearances, that would be a very small price to pay, indeed. Though I fear that this battle is far from over."

At that moment, the doors to the great hall flew open and Fudge strolled in, flanked by a dozen Aurors.

Harry shook his head in disgust. If Dumbledore wanted to, he could obliterate all thirteen of them in an instant. He was sure of it. The students all turned their heads as one to stare at the newcomer. And though they would normally be expected to greet the minister with respect, they glared at him instead. Noticing this, Fudge shuffled a bit before deciding to approach Dumbledore. The hesitation in his step was too obvious.

_Pathetic_.

"Cornelius!" Dumbledore exclaimed jovially, opening his arms as if in wide welcome. "We were just about to sit down for breakfast. Won't you join us, old friend?"

"No time, I'm afraid, Albus," Fudge replied. "You know what I came here to do. Perhaps we should retire to your office for this matter?"

"Not necessary, Cornelius," Dumbledore said. "The students are aware of what is going on. There's no need to wrap ourselves in secrecy. I have, very recently actually, realised that these children do far better with more information."

Fudge blinked in confusion and looked around uncertainly. It was almost as if he was expecting to be attacked by every student surrounding him. The Aurors seemed entirely at ease and even a bit annoyed with being there. One of them was taking in the enchanted ceiling.

"Very well, Albus," Fudge conceded.

_Like you'd be able to make Dumbledore do anything against his will. Who voted for this putz?_

Fudge cleared his throat and spoke loudly. "Albus Dumbledore," he said. "In light of recent revelations –"

"If I may interrupt," Dumbledore said. "You should probably use my full name if you wish to proceed. It would not do to have half-complete records, would it?"

"Albus," McGonagall hissed but was quickly silenced by Snape who whispered something to her.

"Fine," Fudge said, clearly put out. "Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, in light of recent events –"

"Order of Merlin, first-class!" Harry shouted, eager to demand the proper respect for his headmaster. Fudge turned around, clearly appalled by Harry's behaviour and was about to say something when Neville piped up next, "Grand Sorcerer!"

"Now listen here –" Fudge started but was loudly interrupted by none other than Luna Lovegood.

"Supreme Mugwump!" She shouted gleefully and several of the people surrounding her chuckled. Dumbledore did so as well.

"Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot," Justin Finch-Fletchley yelled in awe.

Theodore Nott rose from his seat, despite some of his peers trying to have him remain seated and stared at Fudge with a hard expression on his face. "And Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," he said loudly and solemnly. In response, the entire great hall broke into loud applause as the students were joined by their Professors. Hagrid clapped the loudest, the empty plate in front of him teetering dangerously close to the edge of the table.

Fudge was trying to say something but couldn't get above the loud and appreciative noises that were meant for Albus Dumbledore. And no one else. Dumbledore took it all in stride and stood there looking remarkably pleased with himself as he looked at the Minister, probably to gauge his reaction. Fudge was becoming red, though Harry wasn't sure if it was with anger or embarrassment. A shrill and loud cry of a bird rose above the continuous noise as Fawkes flew into the Great Hall in all his majesty. He flew a few laps above all tables before landing on Dumbledore's outstretched arm. He screeched indignantly at Fudge before jumping on Dumbledore's shoulder just to stare at the officials in annoyance. And finally, everyone else quieted down as well.

"That's enough," Fudge hissed. "I don't know what exactly you've planned here, Albus –"

"I assure you that I planned nothing of this, Cornelius," Dumbledore replied honestly. "But I'll admit that it warms an old man's heart to the core."

"No more interruptions!" Fudge bellowed in anger. Harry thought it was despicable that the Minister of Magic lost control so easily. But what else could he expect of a man who denied the truth so vehemently just because he was too scared to do anything about it? Dumbledore gestured graciously for Fudge to continue.

"You are hereby relinquished of your title of Headmaster," Fudge said angrily. "In your stead, high Inquisitor Dolores Umbridge will take up the position." Loud booing started filling the hall but Dumbledore raised his hand to stop it. Immediately, the noise ceased. Fudge narrowed his eyes. "You are not to remain at Hogwarts," he said. "And you will come with us immediately for questioning and assessment of your mental stability."

Dumbledore smiled. "I'm afraid that I must decline your kind offer, Cornelius," he said merrily. "This short reprieve will serve well for me to take a brief vacation. I imagine sandy white beaches under a setting sun."

"You are not going anywhere!" Fudge growled. The Aurors behind him were reaching for their wands but Harry could easily spot their insecurities. It was likely that each and every one of them had been taught by Dumbledore in some way. Crossing that kindly man couldn't be easy for anyone. Dumbledore merely chuckled. "You don't expect me to – what's the phrase – come quietly, do you?" he asked. And then a bit louder, "I'll see you all very soon."

And then, Fawkes enveloped Dumbledore and himself into a compact ball of fire that swirled for only a short moment when, suddenly, they were gone.

Hermione gasped. "But you can't apparate out of Hogwarts," she whispered loudly.

"I don't think that was apparition," Harry said in awe. New applause broke out and Fudge merely glared at the new Headmistress before spinning on his heel and walking away, followed immediately by the Aurors who seemed anything but displeased.

_Figures. But he'll get what's coming to him._

"He's really gone," Ron said softly. He sounded defeated.

"I don't think so," Harry said, putting a comforting hand on Ron's shoulder. "He'll still be watching. I'm sure of it."

"Yeah," Hermione agreed. "Have some faith in the Supreme Mugwump." All three of them laughed heartily at that, while the other students were loudly discussing the events of that morning. Umbridge was trying to calm them all down and failing miserably.

* * *

The rush left Harry as soon as he was alone with Hermione and Ron and Hermione explained just who Leanne Wenlock was.

"Remember that girl who was sitting by herself in the library?" Hermione asked. "She was one of the last ones there when we left?"

"_That_ was Leanne?" Harry asked. "You can't be serious! We were right _there_!"

"We couldn't have known she was about to be taken," Hermione argued. "And if we had stayed, someone else might have been targeted instead."

"Maybe Madame Pince saw something?" Ron said. "She has to know when Leanne left, at least."

"Let's go ask her after classes," Harry suggested. "Without Dumbledore here, we're really going to need to step up. With Umbridge as Headmistress, I'd bet anything that the disappearances are only going to happen quicker."

"I still can't believe he's gone," Hermione sighed as they started walking to the first class of the day. "It's not fair. Doesn't the Minister see that he's wrong?"

Harry snorted. "He wants desperately to be right," he said. "And Dumbledore's not exactly on his side at the moment."

"Pronouncing him mentally unstable probably seems like a good idea to him," Ron said. "But I bet that it'll backfire."

Harry agreed. There was no way that Fudge's career was going to stay intact after all this. And as soon as _he_ went down, Umbridge would go down with him.

The vast majority of the professors didn't assign any homework that day. Even Snape hadn't assigned an essay saying that he could not endure another evening of reading through the ill-construed misgivings of the dunderheaded Hogwarts flock. But Harry knew that it was a reward for their loyalty. It was as clear as day that all of the teachers were proud of them. Umbridge was the only one who did assign an essay that day as well as some reading. Apparently, she had been exceedingly vicious in class that day and Harry was very happy not to have caught her on one of her worst days.

After class was over, they headed to the library. But this time, studying was the farthest thing from their minds. They approached the desk behind which Irma Pince was filling out some paperwork and waited patiently for her to look up. The woman seemed surprised to be approached at all and straightened her glasses before addressing the student she was most familiar with. "Ms Granger," she greeted. "What can I help you and your friends with today?"

"Good afternoon, Madame Pince," Hermione greeted politely. "We were just wondering if you knew anything about Leanne. We're… very worried about her, you see."

"Oh dear," Pince replied, straightening her glasses again. "Were you very close to her?"

All three of them nodded. It felt a bit wrong to lie to the old lady but it was for a good cause. And Harry somehow didn't think the woman was likely to spill what she knew if she suspected they were simply investigating for the sake of it.

"I wish I had something to tell you," Pince then said. "But I said the same thing to Professor Dumbledore. I never saw her leave."

Harry frowned. "Do you mean that you were away or something for her to have left without you seeing it?"

"Not at all," Pince replied. "In fact, I was still here, waiting for her to leave so I could close up. I knew for certain that she hadn't left. Minutes before I found out she was still putting back some books. She's very good like that. She always takes care of the books."

"So you're not saying that you didn't see her leave," Harry repeated. "You're saying that –"

"She never left at all," Pince replied. "And yet, she's gone. It's almost as if she's gone up in smoke if you'll believe it." She sighed and pushed her glasses further up the bridge of her nose. "I'm so sorry, dears," she said. "But I'm afraid that I don't know anything else. I wish I did."

As the trio walked back to Gryffindor Tower, they mulled over the new information.

"is there a hidden passageway that we don't know about?" Ron suggested.

"I know the map practically by heart," Harry replied. "There's no passageway in the library."

"You don't know that for sure," Hermione said smartly. "Maybe there is one that the Marauders never found out about."

"I don't think so," Harry replied. "To have gone through a passageway, someone would have to have forced her. But Pince doesn't seem to have noticed a struggle of any kind."

"Well, it can't have been apparition," Hermione said again.

"We know," Ron and Harry said in unison.

"Keep thinking," Harry said. "There has to be something we're missing here." But nothing else came to mind. It was frustrating enough to still have gotten nowhere but with Dumbledore not even at Hogwarts anymore, Harry couldn't help but feel as if they had taken some giant steps backwards in their search for the culprit. Not knowing what else to say, he said his goodbyes as he flooed over to Severus' quarters."

Harry soon found himself playing wizard's scrabble with Severus. And even though the man was obviously distracted, Harry still had no way of beating him and his extensive vocabulary. But that was alright. It was nice to redirect his attention elsewhere for now.

"Knut for your thoughts," Harry offered when Severus took too long to make a move. Severus snapped out of this musings and regarded Harry solemnly.

"I simply hadn't expected to have to answer to the likes of Umbridge before this morning," he said coldly. "I wish that Albus had informed us earlier of Fudge's scheme. If he had, there might have been something we could have done."

"Maybe he didn't want you to worry about the inevitable," Harry suggested. And then he watched how Severus placed down the word 'equiprobability' making use of the 'ability' that was already there.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake," Harry scoffed. He wasn't even sure that that was really a word but he wasn't about to challenge Snape on it. In response, he used the new 'o' to spell out 'owl', knowing that he had already lost pitifully.

"I was impressed by you all, this morning," Severus then said.

Harry chuckled. "Not such dunderheads _now_, are we?"

"Less so than the Minister," Severus allowed. "I have to say that I was slightly surprised by your contribution."

"Why is that?" Harry asked, frowning a bit in confusion.

Snape gestured needlessly. "I had simply noticed the dip in your mutual understanding," he said.

"Yeah," Harry said. "I know exactly what you mean. But despite all of his flaws, Dumbledore's still one of the best people I know. And besides… he really _does_ care. I've come to realise that."

"As do you," Severus said easily.

Harry smiled. "True," he said. "And I know he'll be back. Defence Professors don't last forever, you know."

Severus laughed. "I truly hope so," he said. He used the previous 'q' to spell out 'quadplex' and Harry leaned back into the sofa, groaning theatrically.

"Do you read dictionaries for fun or something?" he asked mockingly.

"Or something," Severus replied evenly.

A sudden rapid knock on the door made both Severus and Harry sit upright.

"To your room," Severus ordered.

"But –"

"_Now_, Harry."

Not really wanting to be here should Umbridge come by to flaunt her new position of power, Harry relented and retreated to his room. But he left the door open ever so slightly to be able to hear whatever would be said. If Severus noticed it, he didn't comment on it.

There was the sound of the door opening, followed by a long moment of silence. But then Severus spoke, the disdain dripping from every syllable. "Mr and Mr Weasley," he growled. "You are very brave indeed to even dare and knock on the door of my private quarters."

Harry's heart jumped.

_Oh no! They were serious?!_

"Hullo, Professor," Fred or George said. "Didn't Harry tell you? He invited us here for a slumber party!"

_No, I didn't!_

"Something tells me that he, in fact, did no such thing," Severus replied icily. "In case it has escaped your notice, these are tough times. Times during which no students should be prowling the corridors by themselves."

"You can't go wrong with a brother in crime!" George or Fred said. "Come on, Professor. We promise not to blow anything up."

"Twenty points from Gryffindor," Severus growled and then there was the sound of a door slamming shut. For a long moment, Harry wondered if he should come out when the door to his room was opened by Severus himself. His arched eyebrow said more than a thousand words.

"You know how they are," Harry said defensively. "I told them that if they wanted to find out some things about you, they could just knock on your door and find out for themselves. I didn't mean anything by it. I basically just wanted to stop them from prying. And then they took that as an invitation to a slumber party which they know it wasn't! I really thought they were joking when they said they'd come along."

"I'm certain that they were," Severus said. "And they probably _still_ think it was a fantastic joke. I'll have to make sure to be a bit harsher during their next lesson. I can't have them thinking that knocking on my private door is an appropriate course of action."

"It wasn't my fault," Harry said.

"In a way, it was," Severus said, thoughtfully. "I do believe that my taking you in might have made me seem somewhat… more approachable in the eyes of your fellow Gryffindors."

"Don't pick on them too much," Harry said. "Times are already pretty tough without you tightening the screws some more as well."

"Hmph," Severus responded. "After today, I suppose that I could make an exception. But you can tell those blasted Weasley twins that if their shadows ever darken my threshold again, I will use them for my experimentation."

Harry frowned. "Speaking of which," he said carefully. "How's the potion coming along?"

"Not that it's any of your business," Severus said. "But, quite honestly, not too good. I fear that the Dark Lord's assignment might be too complicated even for me."

"Well, if _you_ can't do it, I doubt anyone _can_," Harry said honestly.

"That's kind of you to say, Harry," Severus said. "But I'm afraid that that won't appease the Dark Lord in any way." He sighed and rubbed his right temple with his hand. "Speaking of which, though, I should probably check on my cauldrons. Do you have some homework to keep you occupied?"

"I didn't really get any today," Harry admitted.

"No," Severus replied. "You wouldn't have, I suppose. Then, perhaps, you should get some rest. Having you fall off your broom tomorrow might be good for the Slytherin chances but it won't be good for my peace of mind."

Harry chuckled. "I'll try my best to stay on my broom, this time," he said. "And to keep it in the air while I catch the snitch."

"_If_ you catch the snitch," Severus corrected.

"If you say so, Severus," Harry teased. Snape smiled at him and then turned to head down to his private lab. Harry watched his retreating back with concern. He knew that Snape was getting to be more and more exhausted by the day. And it was obvious that the man was no closer to brewing what he had to. Maybe Voldemort really _had_ asked him to do the impossible. But even if that was the case, Harry doubted that the evil snake would see it that way. Severus was going to get hurt for this if he didn't find the solution soon. Harry was sure of it. If only there was something he could do.

As Severus had suggested, Harry retired early. He crawled into bed with 'Quidditch through the ages' and tried getting amped about tomorrow's match. But his mind kept wandering to Severus who was now hard at work in his lab, trying to do the impossible. Soon, Harry fell asleep as the book fell shut on his chest, his head filling with dreams about Quidditch matches, and Severus using the Weasley Twins to experiment on after they failed to stop the bludgers heading Harry's way.

* * *

_Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you thought of the chapter.  
**On an important note**, I may or may not be going on a three-day trip to a theme park from Monday to Wednesday, depending on the corona restrictions. (It's been booked for over half a year so I hope I can go.) If I go, I'll be updating on Friday and skipping Tuesday so, for now, just assume that that will be the case/_


	38. Chapter 38

_Hi Everybody and thanks for your patience and reviews!  
As you probably guessed, I managed to go to the theme park. Blisters are my souvenir. Haha. I hope this chapter was worth the wait!_

* * *

**Chapter 38**

The deafening roar of the spectators flooding the pitch as the Gryffindor team walked onto the field was a sound that Harry had almost forgotten. But now, its exhilaration quickly caught up with him and forced him to smile broadly at the knowledge that so many people were there just to watch him catch the snitch. The only downer was that Dumbledore would not be there this time but just seeing Severus and McGonagall sitting practically next to each other as they teased one another about their respective chances almost made up for it. Especially now that Harry knew just what kind of relationship his teachers had.

Remembering Sirius' letter, his eyes scanned the rest of the bleachers and he was soon surprised to find that if he really squinted, he could make out the silhouette of a large black dog, hiding in the shadows. Its yellow eyes were trained on Harry with such intensity that Harry would have been scared of the animal if he hadn't known who it really was. While it was nice of his godfather to come to see him at his match, Harry was still kind of worried that that might not have been such a bright idea. Especially with the knowledge that Voldemort wanted something to do with his house-elf. But his being here meant that he was okay, so there was that.

The Slytherin team looked pathetic. And Harry meant this in the kindest way possible. The truth was that Slytherin was one of the houses that had been hit the hardest by the recent disappearances. The fact that their beaters were missing was not going to do them much good. And their replacements really did look like nothing special. Sure, they still had Malfoy, whom Harry had to admit was a fairly decent seeker as long as he took the time to look for the snitch rather than preen his feathers. But Harry was pretty decent himself and, as of yet, Malfoy hadn't beaten him.

At Madame Hooch's signal, both teams took to the sky, immediately taking up position. Lee Jordan started his witty commentary and Harry immediately flew up high with Malfoy right on his tail. It was a windy day and it was hard to hear anything going on that was too far away so Harry didn't quite catch what was going on below him. As soon as he had reached a height from which he thought he could survey the place to the best of his abilities, he slowed down and started circling the pitch lazily. Malfoy – who seemed to think that his Nimbus 2001 would be able to catch up to a Firebolt if he gave chase, stayed close to Harry. Harry watched Gryffindor score but didn't see the snitch anywhere just yet. Malfoy groaned loudly when one of the new Slytherin beaters accidentally knocked his bat into one of the other players in green.

Harry chuckled. "Where did you even find those guys?" he asked, testing the waters, so to speak.

"Believe it or not but there wasn't exactly a line of people willing to take Crabbe and Goyle's places," Malfoy replied easily.

"Oh?" Harry asked, swerving a bit to the right. "Not enough Quidditch fanatics?"

Malfoy huffed. "It's more like they're worried that those oafs will knock them into the hospital wing when they get back."

Harry chuckled. "That's the spirit," he said. "I don't think I would have expected Slytherin house to be so… optimistic."

"What are you getting at, Potter?" Malfoy asked.

Harry shrugged. "It's just that some people expect those that disappeared to be… well, dead."

Malfoy swooped underneath Harry to end up on his other side and try and get out of the wind. "They're not dead, Potter," he said.

While Harry shared his opinion, a small part of him couldn't help but suspect the worst. After all, this was Voldemort they were talking about. And he would not be against killing children. He _had_ tried to kill Harry before, after all, and had done in with Cedric. "How can you be sure?" Harry then asked.

"It's quite simple, really," Malfoy replied. "If these disappearances are truly the Dark Lord's doing – and I can't think of anyone else that'd be able to get everyone out of Hogwarts like this – and his plan was simply to murder them, my father would know all about it."

Harry stopped scanning for the snitch and looked over at Malfoy in surprise. "Wait," he said. "You er… talk to your father about these things?"

He really didn't know what to make of this.

"_You_ try having the Dark Lord live in your own house without getting even a little bit involved," Malfoy bit out sharply. "It doesn't mean I have to like it. I know that my father actually doesn't but what choice do we have. And no, my father doesn't tell me a whole lot of things but I can tell, you know?"

"Tell what?" Harry urged.

"That he knows next to nothing about what's going on," Malfoy said in exasperation. And then, as if he had said too much, he clapped one hand in front of his mouth. "Damn it, Potter, I doubt that I was supposed to say that stuff."

Harry sighed. "Don't worry," he said. "I knew most if already, anyway."

"Yeah," Malfoy replied sullenly. "I suppose that shouldn't surprise me."

The pair of seekers allowed their gazers to wander the entirety of the pitch in silence for a while. They swerved next to each other but didn't exactly stray too far away from the other. Harry felt as if they had fallen into some sort of mutual understanding. Even more so now than when they had been in the DA. And up here, no one else could hear them, no matter what they talked about.

"I'm willing to trust you, you know," Harry then said.

"A very poor decision, really," Malfoy drawled but Harry could tell that he was trying to add some humour to the darkening situation.

"I know," Harry said, trying to smile at the blonde. Malfoy looked as uncertain as Harry thought _he_ did. Below them, Slytherin managed to score but neither seeker was really paying attention to the game anymore.

"We had a thought," Harry then said. "How would you feel about joining the inquisitorial squad?"

Malfoy almost fell off his broom, he was so shocked. "What?" he asked. "Why in the seven hells would I ever pursue that particular career option?"

"Well –" Harry said, drawing the word out a bit. "We just thought that it might be a good idea to have someone on the inside of things. And that's true now more than ever."

"Yeah," Malfoy agreed. "You're referring to Dumbledore's removal." It wasn't a question but Harry nodded nonetheless. He could only hope that Malfoy wasn't too offended by the idea.

"A sound notion, to be fair," Malfoy then said. "I take it that your Weasley friend had something to do with it?"

Harry snorted. "What?" he asked. "You don't think _I_ could come up with an idea like that?"

"Ha!" Malfoy said loudly. "Not in a million years. Don't get me wrong, Potter. You have your strengths. Like Defence spells and all that. And I guess you're not a bad flyer if you like that sort of style –"

"Gee, thanks," Harry interjected sardonically. "You're not entirely too bad either, I suppose. Discounting the rest of your team, of course."

"But," Malfoy continued as if Harry hadn't said anything. "You are not the type to let other people do your dirty work for you, I don't think."

"You say that as if it's a bad thing," Harry said.

"It's not a very Slytherin approach, of course," Malfoy replied.

Harry chuckled. "Are you implying that Ron thinks like a Slytherin?"

"Yeah, no," Malfoy replied, comically shuddering at the idea. "I think he's just happy to throw any Slytherin to the wolves."

"That's not –"

"But I appreciate the idea," Malfoy then said. "And it's a good one, as well. I won't look too out of place if I apply and the timing is quite excellent as well. After all, with Dumbledore gone, no one would think it suspicious if I suddenly wanted to become a part of Umbridge's crew."

Harry smirked. "So what are you saying, Malfoy?"

"I'll do it," Malfoy said. "Not for you, though. I just really don't like that woman. There's something… creepy about her."

_Yeah, no kidding._

"So er…" Malfoy said. "How often have _you_ seen the snitch by now?"

"About three times," Harry said honestly as he lazily scanned the perimeter again.

"Yeah," Malfoy replied. "Same here. What say you we actually try to catch the thing now? If I wait too much longer, not even the snitch will give us enough points to win."

"Don't worry about that," Harry chuckled. "You won't win, anyway."

It was mere minutes later that Harry emerged in triumph with the snitch clenched firmly into his fist. He landed on the grass, still raising his hand as high as he could to show off his recent capture. His team landed next to him and started patting him on the back.

"Thanks for keeping Malfoy occupied for us," Fred said.

"Yeah, with this point difference, we're way ahead in getting the house cup as well!" Alicia said happily. She was right. The final score had been 280 to 20. It was quite possibly the worst game Slytherin had ever played. And they knew it. A glance at the stands showed Harry that Severus' face had darkened considerably from the time he had sat down. McGonagall – in stark contrast – was beaming with pride and happily chattering away about Merlin-know-what to whoever wanted to hear it. Malfoy had landed with the rest of his team but none of them was talking; Undoubtedly, they had to realise that this loss was all of their faults, though Harry did feel sorry for them. If g-Gryffindor had lost Fred and George, there would have been no way for them to win against a well-practised team.

He remembered that someone else was waiting for him and looked to the shadows where he had seen Sirius before. Padfoot was still patiently waiting for him, his yellow eyes focused entirely on Harry and no one else. It was actually a bit disconcerting.

"Hey, would it be alright if I went off for a bit?" Harry asked his team. "I see someone I haven't seen in a while."

"Who?" Angelina asked but Fred and George had seen the dog as well by now and were ready to come to Harry's aide.

"Of course, Harrykins!" Fred said. "Meet your fans. You've earned it. Come on team, it's time for our celebratory feast!" They successfully herded the rest of the team away and Harry started making his way towards the forbidden forest. He didn't mean to go in too far but Sirius was undoubtedly going to want to transform and Harry wasn't about to allow him to do that with everyone else nearby. Especially when Dumbledore was gone to protect him from ministry officials such as Umbridge.

Some of the other students threw him confused glances but Harry just smiled and waved at them. A well-timed nod and glance in Ron and Hermione's direction told them exactly what was going on so they didn't follow him. But the big black dog that was Padfoot slunk after him as he stayed in the shadows.

_Good thing it's overcast today._

A short trip without interference later, Harry found himself at the edge of the forest at the exact spot where he had gone mushroom and moss picking with Severus, before. He made sure not to venture in too deeply and waited for Padfoot to appear which he did only moments later.

The dog morphed into Sirius almost instantly and the man didn't wait too long to envelop Harry into a tight embrace. "Harry!" he exclaimed. "It has been far too long. How've you been?"

When Harry managed nothing more than a few muffled noises from having his mouth pressed into Sirius' chest, the man backed off apologetically yet still kept a firm hand on Harry's shoulder. "Sorry, pup. I just missed you, that's all."

"I missed you too, Sirius," Harry said honestly. "But aren't you taking too much of a risk being here?"

"Let _me_ worry about that, alright?" Sirius replied. "And this match? Well, I wouldn't have missed it for the world. You absolutely destroyed those Slytherin punks!"

Harry couldn't help but feel a bit defensive about the Slytherin team and fumbled as he tried to explain. "They can't really help it," he said. "Two of their teammates disappeared."

That's when Sirius' facial expression took on a more severe note. "Dreadful situation, that," he said. "And right under Dumbledore's nose as well. I can't for the life of me imagine what's going on."

Sirius settled to sit underneath a huge willow tree and Harry automatically sat beside him. Some of the sun's light was filtering through the trees and illuminating Sirius' gaunt face. Dangerous or not, the man had probably really enjoyed coming here. Harry almost felt bad discussing the heavier things with him but now that he had his godfather here, he couldn't help it. Who knew when he would see him again and there's only so much you can convey through a letter.

"Has Dumbledore talked to you about Kreacher?" Harry asked?

"Hm? Oh yes, he has. I talked to Kreacher and he told me – in his own very colourful wording – that he hadn't been in contact with anyone that wasn't in the order."

"Did he know what Voldemort is looking for?" Harry then asked.

Sirius sighed. "He was a bit more… vague about that. You know how he is. He doesn't exactly give me much to work with." Harry didn't really want to point out that it might have something to do with the way Sirius treated Kreacher so he just kept his mouth shut. "I've gone through the old Black jewellery, though," Sirius continued. "And I found nothing that resembles the necklace Dumbledore described to me. If my brother ever hid it, I don't think it was at Grimmauld Place." Sirius straightened and ruffled Harry's already gravity-defying hair. "But enough about all of that. How are you these days? Old Snivellus isn't giving you too much trouble, I hope?"

Harry frowned. "That really is a horrible nickname, you know?" he commented. "I wish you'd stop that."

Sirius sighed and leaned back against the tree. "I know," he said. "I guess I know. Dumbledore told me that he's been good for you. It's just…"

"What?" Harry urged.

Sirius chuckled. "It's really quite childish," he said.

"Yeah but so is that nickname," Harry pointed out.

"Yeah," Sirius admitted. "I guess so. It's something that stuck around, you know? From way before. We didn't exactly get along at school."

"I gathered as much," Harry said. "Now come on. Stop trying to distract me. I know that you and er… Snape are on the same side now. And don't tell me that you think he might as well still be a death eater because I know that you don't really believe that. So what is your problem right now?"

"Merlin, Harry, isn't it obvious?" Sirius replied nervously. "I'm jealous, all right?"

Harry blinked. "Jealous? Why?"

"I should be the one to help you with your problems. Related to You-Know-Who or not," Sirius said. "But I don't know the first thing about Occlumency and I'm still a wanted man. There is no way for me to step up right now and Snape, the man who your father and I never liked, is fulfilling that role. I can't even imagine how tough that has to be on you."

Harry flushed a bit. "He's been alright, really," he said. "He's been helping me in so many ways. He even –"

Harry took a moment to gather his thoughts. With Sirius here in person, it was easier to tell him about certain things. Things he hadn't wanted to mention before. But the man was going to find out sooner or later anyway and Harry would rather be there to stop him from blowing up when he did.

"He took me in. To help me with my visions."

Sirius frowned and his gaze darkened a bit. "Took you in?" he repeated. "What do you mean by that?"

"Don't freak out, alright?" Harry said hurriedly. "But things got bad. And for now, I'm staying in Snape's quarters so he can help me immediately when something goes wrong."

"What?" Sirius exclaimed. "Harry, that goes way too far!"

"It was necessary," Harry told him as calmly as he could. "Trust me on this. It's really been fine and he _has_ been a great help to me."

"What part of the word 'Forbidden' do you not understand, Potter?" a dangerously low voice growled. Both Sirius and Harry jumped almost comically at the new voice that penetrated the eery silence of the forest. Severus appeared and fixed his gaze on Sirius.

"Black," he said. "I _thought_ I smelled wet dog."

"Stop!" Harry exclaimed. "Before either of you says anything, please hear me out." When neither man spoke, Harry continued. "I know that you don't like each other but you're supposed to be the adults here. The name-calling and jibes at each other really are unnecessary, I think. It's been, what, twenty years since you went to school together? I think it's high time that you stopped fighting each other because you're fighting on the same team here! Hell, if Malfoy and I can sort of make up, I would imagine that you can as well."

"You're rambling again," Severus pointed out calmly.

"You and Malfoy?" Sirius exclaimed. "Whatever possessed you to do that?"

"A mutual goal," Harry said easily. He couldn't deny seeing the small flicker of pride that shone in Severus' eyes.

"Ah, this Umbridge character," Sirius said with understanding. He got up from the ground and brushed off his dirty robes. It was clear to Harry that the man was not comfortable sitting around with Severus looming over him. "However things are, I demand to see your new living arrangements, Harry," he said. "As your godfather, I have the right to make sure that you're well taken care of."

"Sirius!" Harry started to protest, knowing full well that Severus hated having other people in his quarters.

"That might be the first responsible thing I've heard you say in a while," Severus said easily, though his tone lacked its usual malice. "Very well. It would be a lot safer to continue our conversation there than at the edge of a dangerous forest such as this one, anyway."

Harry's jaw all but hit the floor. Did Severus Snape just grant Sirius Black permission to enter his private quarters? And not only that but to scrutinise them to see if they were fit for a fifteen-year-old?" Sirius seemed equally surprised but he recovered much quicker.

"Don't look so shell-shocked, Harry," Severus said slyly. "Surely, you've gone through a much more surprising series of events than this one."

Harry recovered and chuckled. "No, actually," he said.

_Not even close._

Severus arched an eyebrow at him before turning his back on the two Gryffindors. "I suggest that you shift back into that mongrel, Black," he said. "A big black dog, I might be able to explain. A convicted murderer? Well, even my Slytherins would be quite surprised to see that."

Harry chuckled and Sirius gave him an odd look before turning into Padfoot. Harry frowned. "Are you sure that smuggling in a dog that looks like it's part bear would go unnoticed?"

"If you are uncertain, I could always transfigure him into a poodle," Severus suggested lightly. Padfoot growled but Harry laughed.

"Yeah, no," he said. "That would stand out far more. I suppose that you just have to glare at whoever looks your way and you'll be fine."

"Indeed," Severus replied curtly. "As it stands, though, a black dog would still seem a likelier companion to me than Harry Potter would. Especially after the horrifying result of the last Quidditch match. I suggest that you take your usual approach to get to my chambers while I take the normal route."

Harry looked uncertain.

"Harry, we're not going to try and kill each other," Severus said blankly.

Padfoot's gaze shifted a bit and Harry wondered just how likely his godfather was to keep his peace. As if reading his mind, Severus said, "Black will behave as well. If not, I will conjure him a muzzle." Padfoot growled again and then sneezed in a way that almost seemed like a snort.

"Well, okay," Harry said, still feeling a bit doubtful. "I'll see you in a bit, then."

"Quite so," Severus replied. He made to leave but halted when he seemingly had a thought. "Oh, and Harry. Ten points from Gryffindor for venturing into the Forbidden Forest."

Harry sighed. "Yeah, yeah," he groaned before heading to the castle separately from the two men who had been bitter rivals for years.

* * *

It was very difficult to get away from the Gryffindor common room. With everything that happened, Harry had mostly forgotten that his team had just obliterated Slytherin, earning themselves a ton of points. Every time he was able to shuffle closer towards the fireplace, someone felt the need to clap him on the shoulder or even pull him into a hug. Harry couldn't quite make out who was congratulating him. He couldn't really see past the wave of red. All he could think of was that he needed to get to Severus' quarters and fast before one of the men killed the other, but his housemates were very reluctant to allow him to do so.

"Stay for the celebration!" Ron said. "At least for a little while. I'm sure that a certain someone can wait."

"Oh Ron," Hermione said. "I think _Harry's_ the one who can't wait."

"Can't wait for what?" Fred asked.

"Oi, Harry, good job at keeping Malfoy distracted like that!" Neville told him loudly. Harry smiled at him. Lately, the boy was becoming more and more outspoken. It was really good to see.

"Thanks, Neville," he replied, even though he hadn't exactly _meant_ to distract the Slytherin blonde. Poor Malfoy. He was likely getting an earful from his own team right now.

"Guys, I'll be back later," Harry finally said. "If I don't go now, something catastrophic might happen."

"Doesn't matter!" George said. "We creamed Slytherin and that's all that's important." But they did let him go and finally, Harry was able to toss in his floo powder and hurry towards the dungeons.

He hurried out of the fireplace as soon as he came to a halt, expecting the sitting room to be in shambles with blood smearing the walls. Instead, he found both men sitting across from each other, each of them holding a cup of tea.

_It's not poisoned, is it?_

Severus grinned but sipped his cup in response to Harry's unspoken thought.

"Harry!" Sirius said jovially. "What took you so long?"

"There was a victory party," Harry replied. He walked across the room and went to sit next to Sirius.

"Ah yes," Severus said. "And what would a Quidditch Victory Party be without the star seeker of Gryffindor?"

"Completely and utterly boring," Harry said easily, contentedly sitting back as Severus conjured a third cup. He could notice the obvious tension between the two adults but chose not to make anything of it. They were trying, after all, and that was more than enough for Harry.

"Snape was filling me in about your visions," Sirius said. "And you never told me that you were blacking out while these disappearances happened!"

Harry shot Severus an aggravated look but the man simply stared back, his face a mask of neutrality.

"Harry, why didn't you tell me?" Sirius asked.

"There was nothing you could have done," Harry said easily. "It would be pointless for you to worry about it."

"Harry seems to be labouring under the misapprehension that he need shoulder the world's issues by himself," Severus said easily. "Especially so when he deems it impossible for others to assist him, no matter how incorrect he is about that."

_Traitor_.

Sirius shook his head miserably. "It makes me wonder what else you hide from me, Harry. How can I be a decent godfather to you if you don't give me a chance?"

_Oh no! the infamous guilt trip! When did Mrs Weasley teach him that?_

"I believe that he's slowly coming to understand the importance of sharing personal information," Severus said, gracefully coming to the rescue of Harry, even if he was the one who had set the trap in the first place.

"Please don't interfere, Snape," Sirius snarled. Harry bit his lip. Well, at least he said please and didn't insult Severus anymore.

"As the person currently charged with Harry's safety, I feel that I need to," Severus replied.

"I'm not about to attack him!" Sirius said, sounding insulted. His teacup rattled in his hands.

"Never did I imply that you would," Severus said easily.

"It's really not fair, you know," Sirius said, scowling at nothing in particular. "_I_ should be the one taking care of him."

"Even if you weren't in the extreme situation you find yourself in, we are now at Hogwarts," Severus said. "His safety would fall into the hands of his professors, either way."

"Yeah, but that shouldn't be you, should it?" Sirius said. "Why couldn't Minerva take him in?"

"Minerva has no notion about the mind arts," Severus said. Harry could tell that the man was slowly starting to lose his patience. "Nor do any of the other teachers, as far as I know."

"Albus then –"

"Dumbledore didn't want to train me," Harry interjected helplessly. "He's the one that suggested Severus. And I'm lucky that he accepted!"

Sirius looked pained. "Harry –"

"No!" Harry exclaimed. "Severus really helped me out in ways that you can't even imagine. He's saved my life multiple times, this year alone. And you still refuse to trust him. And for what? A childhood feud that never got resolved?"

Harry didn't want to listen to any more excuses. He walked out of the sitting room and into his own room, slamming the door shut behind him. He locked it with a locking spell for good measure, knowing full well that it would be useless against the two wizards now sitting outside of his door.

_Well, that was entirely stupid._

Sometimes, Harry really did let his temper get the better of him. It would only last a second before the anger would subside and he realised how juvenile he was being. And that was after essentially telling those two men to grow up.

_Agh! How embarrassing!_

He didn't have to wait long for there to be a knock on his door. Harry wanted the person on the other side to come in but didn't really want to say. So he just waited. After a while, the door opened to reveal Sirius standing there, looking exceedingly nervous.

"Can I come in?" he asked. Harry nodded his response.

Sirius closed the door and looked around the room before his eyes landed on Harry. He grinned, which made him always look much younger than he actually was. "I never thought I'd see a room decorated in Gryffindor colours in the dungeons, let alone in Snape's quarters."

"It was Dumbledore," Harry said curtly.

"Ah, that makes sense, then," Sirius said. He sat down on Harry's bed, making the boy shuffle to the side a bit to make room.

"Listen, I'm sorry," Sirius then said. "I'm trying. I really am. I didn't even ask Snape if the tea he handed me was poisoned."

Harry chuckled a bit at that.

"But you'll have to forgive me if I sometimes… er… regress to my previous behaviour. Especially when it comes to you, pup." Sirius sighed. "I can't help but be worried."

"Don't be," Harry said. "It's true what I said before. He's saved my life more times than I can count."

"While I only managed to endanger it," Sirius said, clearly thinking back to third year.

"Don't say that," Harry said. "I'm glad all of that happened. Who knows what might've happened otherwise?"

"Look, I will try to be better," Sirius said. "But every now and then, something will slip out. And I'm sure that the same can be said from Snape. I think that we can both understand your wishes in this matter, even though they caught me by surprise. Since I'm still a Gryffindor, it wouldn't do for me to be the one to refuse your request. Even though I'll admit to being very surprised that Snape even allowed me in here."

"It must be my Gryffindor influence," Harry said cheekily.

"Ha!" Sirius said. "Must be! Come here, you." He roughly pulled Harry into a strong, one-armed embrace before letting him go again. "But I'll never call the man Severus. I just can't."

"Not even to see the look on his face?" Harry tried.

"Not even that," Sirius said sincerely. "If I tried that now, he might hex me into oblivion. In fact, I can't believe that you _are_ calling him that."

Harry shrugged. "Stuff happened," he said.

"Stuff always happens," Sirius said knowingly. "Look, I –"

Suddenly, Sirius's face turned dark and he hurriedly got up from the bed.

"Sirius, what's wrong?" Harry asked but Sirius didn't reply. He threw open the door and hurried into the sitting room with Harry hot on his tail. Severus – who was already reading a book by that point – looked up when the, admittedly, wild-looking wizard stormed up to him.

"I have to go back," Sirius said. "The wards have been alerted. Grimmauld Place has been breached."

Harry's eyes widened. "You can't go back!" he said. "You could get killed!"

"I'll go as well," Severus said easily.

"Don't be ridiculous," Sirius snapped. "If they see you, your days as a spy are over."

"You seem to forget that I'm a Potions Master," Severus replied, actually sounding a bit affronted. He waved his wand, and a potion flew into his hand. Harry easily recognised it by now. Polyjuice.

"Do you have one for me as well?" Harry asked.

"Absolutely not!" the two older men exclaimed in unison which was followed by a mutual look of disgust.

Severus downed the potion and changed quickly into a bland-looking man with brown hair and a beard. He was about Severus' height and body type so a change of robes wasn't required.

"Don't go anywhere," Severus said, his voice now sounding a lot deeper than it usually did. "Promise me."

"I –"

"Harry!" Severus urged.

"I promise," Harry said. "If you promise to be careful."

Both men nodded. They then threw in the floo powder and with a flash of green they disappeared. Harry only hoped that whoever infiltrated would be long gone now.

* * *

_Please leave me a review and let me know what you thought. Especially about Sirius, if you could.  
__The website is being difficult again and not showing reviews but don't worry. They still get through.  
At present, I'm not sure if I'll be updating on Tuesday or not since I'm a bit behind on my writing. I'll definitely update on Friday, though. Thanks for reading!_


	39. Chapter 39

_I don't even know why I was worried. A Tuesday update was really in the cards all along! Thank you all for your reviews. They really help with my motivation. I'm really glad that you all liked my Sirius so much. Sorry for the minor cliffhanger but here we go!_

_Thanks to my wonderful beta Pagemaster4TW!_

* * *

**Chapter 39**

Harry sat there for what felt like hours, though his Tempus let him know that only twenty minutes had gone by. With his hands clasped behind his back, he was pacing the sitting room, occasionally bumping his shins against the furniture when he walked a tad too brusquely.

_Come on. Come on. Come on._

Harry still was unclear about what was happening. A short while ago, he had finally been able to see Sirius again. He'd had a conversation with the man and they had even come to some sort of vague agreement about Severus. Everything seemed to be going just fine when all of a sudden, Sirius was alerted about some sort of infiltration.

Harry sighed and finally sat down, hanging his head in his hands. He wasn't an idiot. He knew what was most likely in this scenario. Voldemort had somehow gotten ahold of Kreacher and was now coming for the necklace. Harry didn't see another option. He could only hope that by the time Severus and Sirius had arrived at the house, the intruders would be long gone. But Harry knew that that was too much to hope for, even as he thought it.

It was another ten minutes later that the floo flared up again. Harry immediately got up - even if he wasn't sure of what to do – and anxiously counted the seconds before a disguised Severus stepped out of the fireplace while being supported by Sirius. Harry hurried up to the pair as Sirius dropped Severus into a randomly selected chair.

"What happened?" Harry demanded. Snape sported a huge gash across his forehead with blood pouring out rapidly and staining his clothes. His leg also seemed to be hurt, though Harry couldn't spot any immediate damage.

"Bellatrix was right there," Sirius replied. "Harry, do you know where Snape keeps his potions? I think he needs –"

"I am coherent enough to get my own potions, Black," Severus interrupted. '"There is no need for your false concern."

"Fine, have it your way!" Sirius exclaimed in exasperation. The man was clearly on edge, though he didn't appear to be hurt.

"So, a blood-replenishing potion?" Harry asked when Severus made no attempt to get up.

"And essence of dittany," Severus said gruffly. Harry nodded and hurried to get the potions from Severus' personal storage. By the time he got back, Sirius had wetted a towel. Severus scowled at the man and Sirius sharply tossed him the wetted cloth in response, huffing all the while.

"What happened?" Harry repeated as he handed Severus his potions.

"She got to Kreacher," Sirius said as he unceremoniously dropped heavily into a seat. "That bloody house-elf swore to me that he hadn't spoken to her. That he never left Grimmauld place in the first place!"

"Do you think he lied?" Harry asked in concern.

"I _know_ he did!" Sirius exclaimed. "That pest of a mongrel apparated that witch straight into Grimmauld Place. Just like that!"

"What?" Harry asked. "I thought you couldn't do that."

"House-elves, Harry," Severus explained tiredly. "They are able to break through most boundaries set by wizards."

"I should've killed him when I had the chance," Sirius hissed. "That bloody traitor. And to think that he practically worshipped my brother…"

"Did she get it?" Harry then asked, glancing between the two men. "Did she get the necklace?"

"She already had it in her hands when we got there," Sirius sighed. "It seems that Kreacher knew right away where that thing was. He hid it from me!"

"The elf's loyalties have been corrupted," Severus said simply. "It was clear from the start that he did not serve you."

"Where is he now?" Harry asked. "Maybe he knows what they're planning with it?"

"He's dead," Sirius said darkly. "As soon as that witch was done with him, she cut him open like a turkey served for Christmas. We tried to get the necklace back but she was expecting us. Had already set several traps."

"Or that house-elf did," Severus said. "Either way, we were unable to retrieve the trinket."

"I should probably head back," Sirius said wearily. "Check to see what else she did. Make sure that the house is safe again for the order to use."

"Wait!" Harry exclaimed. "Doesn't she know the location of the house now?"

"Not exactly," Sirius said. "The elf apparated her inside but she doesn't actually know the address. She shouldn't be able to come back."

"Shouldn't?" Harry repeated. "That doesn't sound too sure."

"Bellatrix cannot possibly find Grimmauld place at this point," Severus then said. "With the house-elf dead, she has no way of getting inside again. And besides, I suspect that she has what she came for and doesn't care about anything else."

Harry nodded slowly, even though he wasn't convinced. "But what if you're wrong," he said.

"Harry," Sirius said, putting a hand on Harry's shoulder. "I'll be fine. You don't need to worry about me. Worry more about your professor here. He clearly needs it."

Severus started growling at him but Sirius quickly grabbed some floo powder before the man could explode on him. "And that's my cue to leave. Stay in touch, Harry!"

"You too," Harry replied softly and then Sirius was gone.

Harry glanced over at Severus who was clearly in a very sullen mood. The essence of dittany had managed to close the cut on his forehead and he had emptied he blood replenisher as well but he still looked worse for wear. Harry sat down on the couch, slouching back as he waited for Severus to say something.

"Black should have been smarter about this," he said.

Harry sighed_. Figures that the first thing out of his mouth is an insult to Sirius._

"He should have detained his elf," Severus continued. "Or, at the very least, searched his house from top to bottom to find that necklace."

"Who knows where Kreacher hid it," Harry said. "He did his best."

"If he had refrained from coming here, he might have been able to stop Bellatrix," Severus continued, gingerly stretching his apparently still injured leg.

"Yeah, and he might have died for it," Harry argued angrily. "So for that, I'm actually very happy that he was here today."

"He's in the order," Severus argued. "That means that he should do everything in his power to stop the Dark Lord. Not visit the Quidditch games of his godson."

"Well, I'm glad that, for once, someone did!" Harry exclaimed. And when Severus just stared at him, he added, "Don't look at me like that. You can't convince me that you were even remotely rooting for Gryffindor. I'm not an idiot."

"Your head of house was quite pleased with your victory," Severus said. "As were your housemates and the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs…"

"Forget it," Harry huffed. "I don't expect you to understand."

Because how could he? Harry wanted someone to root for him in the way that Petunia and Vernon rooted for Dudley at his boxing matches, encouraging him even when he failed. Mrs Weasley tried sometimes as she did at the Triwizard Tournament but that was honestly not the same. And yeah, Severus had been great but in cases like this, he was still a Slytherin. It was fine, really. Severus did all he could. And he still had Sirius. But that's why it was actually nice for the man to show up to his games every now and then.

"Do you really think Sirius will be alright?" Harry then asked, unable to forget about the danger his godfather might still be in.

"I am quite certain," Severus said wearily. By now, the Polyjuice potion had worn off, and Severus looked like his surly self again. It did nothing for his abnormally pale complexion. "I will alert the Headmaster immediately about this breach. If he deems it necessary, he can stop by Grimmauld place and stay awhile. Should you so desire, I could ask him to stay with Black for you."

"I'm sure he has better things to do," Harry said.

"Perhaps," Severus agreed. "But he has a few things that he has yet to make up for. I'm certain that he would be positively ecstatic for a chance to start doing just that."

Harry chuckled softly. "Sometimes, you are just too Slytherin, you know that?" he said.

"There is no such thing," Severus said. He took out his wand and cast the Patronus charm. As he did so, Harry couldn't help but notice the slight tremor in his hand. Whatever was still wrong with his leg was causing him tremendous pain, he realised. And it appeared to be something that couldn't just be healed in a few seconds with the magic Severus had at his disposal.

When the beautiful form of a doe appeared in front of Severus, he relayed his message. "Albus, Kreacher has taken Bellatrix inside of Grimmauld Place and took off with the necklace. Kreacher is now dead. Black is fine but Harry requests that you remain with him for the time being just in case she manages to come back." Severus nodded and the doe skipped off, vanishing through the dungeon walls.

Harry hadn't actually asked Severus to say those things but he was kind of glad for it. If Dumbledore could stay at Grimmauld Place for a bit, Sirius would be as safe as he possibly could be.

"I'll floo call Madame Pomfrey," Harry then said.

"And why do you feel the need to do that?" Severus asked. "Are you hurt?"

"Er… no," Harry said stupidly. "But you are. Obviously."

Severus scoffed. "It is nothing I need her assistance for," he said. "If she gets involved, I won't hear the end of it."

Harry laughed. "I know what you mean but you're not getting out of this." He grabbed some of the floo powder from the mantle.

"You're risking detention, brat," Severus warned.

"It's worth the risk," Harry said bravely before throwing in the powder and yelling, "Hospital wing." He put his head into the now green flames and watched as Pomfrey turned around to face him.

"Oh my, Mr Potter!" she exclaimed in surprise. "Whatever have you done now? I believed that no one got hurt during Quidditch this time."

"It's not for me, ma'am," Harry said. "It's for Professor Snape. He got hurt on order business."

Pomfrey shook her head and was already reaching for a few things before she motioned for Harry to step back, which he did. He scrambled out of the way just in time for the Mediwitch to bustle her way towards Severus, who was looking quite annoyed.

"My apologies, Poppy," Severus said. "The boy seems to be mistaking a newt for a dragon."

"Tut-tut," Pomfrey said. "I'll be the judge of that. Now hold still."

"Poppy, really –"

"Severus," Pomfrey said sternly. "Sit still and stop talking before I spell your mouth shut." Severus seemed to be deeply affronted by that but he listened and shut up. But that didn't stop him from glaring daggers at Harry who couldn't help but find this situation somewhat funny. There truly was no one that didn't listen to Madame Pomfrey. Harry bet that even Dumbledore couldn't stand up to the fussy witch. She ran a diagnostic charm but Harry didn't see the result she got from that.

"Goodness, however did you manage this?" Pomfrey then said.

"I assure you that it was not done on purpose," Severus said dryly. "And I most certainly did not do it myself."

"A vial of skele-gro, for you," Pomfrey then said, already slamming a vial of the brew down next to Severus. Ironically, he probably brewed that himself. "And some nerve-regeneration potion as well, it seems." She slammed down another potion. Harry wondered if she had some version of the sight to be able to guess what Severus would have needed before even seeing him. Or was she simply aware of what the Potions Master would have been able to deal with on his own to avoid brining something unnecessary?

"Do you have something for dog allergies as well?" Severus grumbled irritably.

"Professor!" Harry exclaimed. "Don't be a git."

Pomfrey looked between them in confusion before seemingly deciding that Severus was making some kind of joke. "Stay off that leg for the remainder of the day, Severus," she warned. "I'll know if you don't and if so, I'll need to confine you to your bed. You know I would!"

"Yes, I know, Poppy," Severus said stiffly. "It's not as if I had much to celebrate today, anyway."

Despite already having established that Severus would never root for Gryffindor in any shape or form, that comment still stung somewhat.

"I'll take my leave then," Pomfrey said. "don't hesitate to floo call me if you need me."

"Thank you," Harry said when it didn't look like Severus was going to say it. Pomfrey nodded at him and disappeared through the fireplace again.

"Happy?" Severus then asked. "I'm confined to my bed now. Or at the very least, my sitting room."

"Well, it's not as if you have much to celebrate anyway," Harry pointed out snidely.

Severus frowned. "Harry –"

"No, I get it," Harry said. "You're the Slytherin head of house and you've always been very passionate about Quidditch… for some reason. Why is that, actually? Did you ever play?"

"No, never," Severus said evenly as he regarded Harry in that infuriatingly scrutinising manner.

"It doesn't matter, I guess," Harry said. "But yeah, it's not as if I'm expecting you to sit there and cheer for me when _I'm_ the Gryffindor seeker. Especially when you're sitting next to McGonagall who was clearly giving you a hard time and with everyone still thinking that you completely hate me. I mean, we do have that mental connection that seems to work sometimes so I guess that you could have sent me some sort of mental message or something but now that I think about it, it doesn't always work even when I want it to. And it's not as if Fred and George had anyone sitting in the stands for them so I suppose I was just expecting too much which is stupid, really, if you consider that –"

"Harry," Severus interrupted calmly as he held up his hand to call for quiet. Harry's mouth snapped shut with a click of his teeth. "You're rambling again. What are you nervous about now?"

"Nervous?" Harry laughed humourlessly. "You mean besides the fact that my godfather is now at a compromised location while you are badly injured? Never mind everything else that's going on."

"Stop deflecting," Severus said. "What is it that you wish for me to read between your prolix explanation?"

Harry frowned at him. "You're having me on, aren't you?" he asked. "Can't you pretty much guess?"

"My guess is that you actually do expect me to raise a red-and-gold-coloured bangle, asking Ms Lovegood to borrow her lion helmet whenever Gryffindor scores a goal," Severus said evenly.

Harry sighed dramatically. "Of course not," he said. "That's ridiculous."

"But?" Severus urged as he waved his wand to have a footstool hurry its way over to him only to settle pleasantly in front of Severus' seat. He put up his feet as he kept watching Harry.

"But I wish that you wouldn't look so distraught over losing!" Harry said. "You make me feel as if I've vanished your favourite duck!"

Snape snorted despite the situation, making Harry chuckle a bit as well. Alright, so perhaps that phrase wasn't all that well-chosen in this occasion. "I mean, kicked your favourite puppy," Harry corrected himself. "You're making me feel as if I'm disappointing you somehow. And while I didn't care before, I sure as hell do now."

"Surely, you realise that my disappointment was directed at the Slytherin team," Severus said. "Not at you. Even before this entire oddity of a situation established itself, I never blamed the better team for winning. Even I am aware that the only team partaking in foul play is the Slytherin one."

_I doubt that you ever tried to set them straight._

Severus cleared his throat. "I truly do not know what you wish of me, Harry. You know that I need to put op a front. And even if I didn't, I am not the type of person that indulges in exuberant celebration for such trifle matters."

Harry huffed audibly as he leaned back his head, staring at the ceiling that was showing the cloudy day overhead. "You're a very frustrating man, sometimes, do you know that?"

"So I've been told," Severus admitted. "But I will tell you this. You truly are a remarkable flyer. If you had belonged to Slytherin house, I am certain that we would never miss out on a Cup again, be it House or Quidditch."

"I guess that counts as a compliment," Harry said evenly.

"You caught the snitch quite expertly," Severus admitted. "Well done."

Harry smiled at him. "Thanks," he said. It wasn't much, but it meant a lot to him.

"Now, I do believe that it is time for you to join the celebrations," Severus said. "I have no doubt that Gryffindor tower is now stocked with prohibited joke products and beverages of the alcoholic kind. Surely, you do not wish to miss out on that."

Harry hesitated. "Er… but you're hurt," he pointed out.

"Astute observation," Severus replied blandly. "But I assure you that I am quite able to take care of myself. I've endured much worse than this."

Harry smiled again and got up. "Alright," he said. "I'll go. But, I'll not be leaving you without some company!" Harry rushed to his room and came back out with a pile of rocks. "I've been practising!" he announced with a grin when Severus eyed him curiously.

"Practicing what?" Severus asked. "Throwing rocks?"

Harry didn't reply. He waved his wand and enchanted the transfigurative spell he had been practising with Hermione. A couple of successive wand-waves and incantations later, the pile of rocks had been replaced with a pile of colourful rubber ducks. There was a black one in the mix that looked particularly sullen and quaked indignantly when you tried to pick it up. Harry grinned. "There you go," he said.

Severus glared at him. "Don't you think this joke of yours is going a bit too far?" he asked but the annoyance in his voice was obviously fake so Harry just laughed.

"Just be careful of the orange one," he said. "It bites."

"Off with you and your cheek," Severus growled. Harry laughed and tossed in the powder required to head back up. Before the flames swallowed him, he distinctly heard Severus say something along the lines of, "Happy Quidditch Victory Day."

* * *

Despite Umbridge's newly appointed position, Harry's spirits had been soaring high. Celebrating his victory with his housemates all day had been an entirely different experience from them shying away from him for the last couple of months. Finally, some semblance of normalcy was coming back to him and was inspiring him with new hope. The fact that all of the students had come together to support Dumbledore had also been a fantastic feeling. Never before had Harry felt more part of a group than at that moment.

It was a pity, really, that Umbridge's taking over was not putting an end to the disappearances. In fact, it was near the end of the victory party that Harry's vision was starting to blur a bit. At first, he thought it had something to do with the fire whiskey he had consumed but when he heard that sound of dripping water, he was shocked into alertness. His eyes sought out Hermione and Ron who were nearly sitting on each other's laps with how close they were. Ron was already dozing off and Hermione was staring ahead of her with a dopy grin on her face.

_Look at me._

Harry wanted desperately for his friends to realise that something was wrong. Hermione hadn't drunk _that_ much, had she? But whatever the case was, she was not paying him any attention. No one was. Harry tried hanging on to consciousness a tad longer and watched helplessly how he was steered into the direction of the portrait hole. He tried desperately to raise his Occlumency shields as much as he could but to no avail. Hadn't Severus told him that Voldemort could access his mind from the inside? It sure felt as if the intruder had access to a secret tunnel of sorts. That thought was the last one before Harry's mind was finally plunged into darkness once more.

He was getting really annoyed by that vision of himself sitting on top of that lake. It was somewhat of a relief to see that the darkness had somehow rescinded and enough light was filtering through for Harry to see his own reflection in the still waters below him. The dripping drops in the background unnerved him but also served as some sort of anchor to remind him of where he was.

Right about now, Severus would have gotten the message that Harry had lost consciousness again. Would the man attribute that to overconsumption of alcohol or would he realise what was going on? The potions master was not one for taking chances so Harry imagined that he would come looking for him regardless.

Only… he was not supposed to be up and about right about now. Would he even be _able_ to come looking for Harry? And if he was, would that set him back much?

"Your scheme isn't working, you know!" Harry exclaimed to no one in particular. "I know that I'm not behind all of this. You might as well give it up."

The expected silence was deafening, only to be interrupted by that steady dripping in the background.

Harry started thinking. Why hadn't this happened with the last two disappearances? Why was he left alone, then? Frowning, he thought back to them. Michael Corner. He had been sneaking off with Ginny before daybreak. That's what she had said, at least. Harry had most definitely been asleep, then. Maybe his mind had been breached and he simply didn't notice? Or Voldemort didn't see the necessity. But what about Leanne Wenlock? He had still been up for at least an hour after leaving the library. He didn't know exactly when Leanne would have been taken, but surely, Madame Pince wouldn't have allowed her to stay past curfew. And she was already gone when Pince when looking for her. So, if she had been taken before curfew and right after they left, why hadn't he been compromised? Was it because of the late hour?

Argh, there was really no way to figure out the diseased mind that was Voldemort's. If Dumbledore's theory about the Horcruxes was correct, the man was even more insane than he had always thought.

Occlumency wasn't working, and Harry felt helpless for it. But then he wondered if he could try something else. Something new. Something that Voldemort would never see coming!

Yes. He would use everything that Severus had taught him until now to find that bastard lurking in his mind. There was no way that he was just going to let this happen anymore.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are," Harry said. "There is no free board and breakfast here. Time to pay rent, Tom."

Harry looked down at the water once more and examined himself just floating there. He extended his foot down until just the tip of it touched the water. This time, instead of just rippling, a small patch of solid ice appeared underneath him and Harry suddenly found himself landing on the slippery ground. He balanced himself and tried stepping beyond the patch only to create another. As he watched, the two separate patches of ice grew a little bit more to connect to each other before coming to a stop.

Finally feeling that there was something he could do, Harry continued walking on the surface of the lake. Every time he moved on, the ice would expand and connect to the previous patches until a neat path was being created. The dripping of the water became louder as he moved and he wondered what it would be. But he could also feel a deepening of the dark presence that always engulfed him when Voldemort took him here. It could only mean that he was getting closer.

Though it was starting to look as if the lake would never end, it suddenly did, dropping Harry off quite unexpectedly in a snowy glen. Here and there, sprigs of grass were protruding from the snow, glistening in the few slight beams of sunlight that were able to break the dark. Fog was swirling around him but Harry knew that it was his and not Voldemort's. It seemed to be taking him. Guiding him. As if his mind knew where Voldemort was and wanted desperately for Harry to deal with him. To suck out the poison.

Out of the fog, the vision of a large glacier came up and Harry finally realised that he was nearing his own Occlumency walls. When he looked up, he could see that the tips were melting and the drops were echoing loudly as they hit a small but steadily growing pool of water underneath it. And then, right there, he saw him. A boy that was about his age with short black hair, wearing an emerald cloak. On his hand, he wore a familiar-looking ring and the uniform underneath the cloak betrayed him to be a Slytherin. He seemed to be deep in thought. His eyes were closed and his arms were spread out invitingly.  
his cloak danced in the chilly wind but the boy was still as a statue.

_Tom_.

Harry walked up to him. Strangely enough, the sense of dread that had accompanied him here was now all but forgotten. This was still his own mind. Even with Voldemort, no, Tom Riddle inside of it. He looked defenceless. Focused. Harry wondered what it was like to be in control of another's body and wondered what was happening to Voldemort's own form at that exact moment. He questioned if his plan would even work.

He searched his pockets for his wand and was surprised to find it right where it should be. Losing all of his doubts and fears, he aimed his wand between Tom's eyes and incanted.

"Legilimens!"

There was no resistance. Harry wondered if this was what it was like to enter the mind of someone that didn't know Occlumency or if this sensation was unique to his current situation. The mind he entered was complete chaos. The memories were not stored in a neat fashion, nor did they seem well-cared for. Foul emotions seemed to be let loose just about everywhere rather than being contained in their own wards. There was no trace of any happy emotions. Like wraiths in the wind, anger, pain and sadness flew past Harry who raised his arms protectively. But none attacked him. It was more as if they didn't know where to go or what to do with themselves. As if they were trapped but in a vast landscape rather than a cage. They seemed to lash out at anyone and Harry wondered how that had to be like for Voldemort himself.

He approached the first memory he could clearly grasp. It seemed to be a recent once, not yet long ago enough to be thrown haphazardly into the pile of chaotic musings. Harry reached out and was sucked into the memory.

He landed in Malfoy Manor where Voldemort was sitting in an enormous library, reading a book in front of the fireplace. It was a normal scene, its normalcy bordering on ridiculous when it was Voldemort who was its protagonist. His pet snake was curled up in front of the fire, hissing in her sleep. Voldemort turned the page of the large tome and rubbed his temples as if in deep thought. Then, there was a knock on the door.

"Enter," Voldemort said easily. His eyes darted from the pages to the oaken door that carefully opened to reveal a madly grinning Bellatrix Lestrange.

"Ah," Voldemort said, smiling in expectation. "My dear Bella. You have returned. You have good news, I hope?"

"Of course, my Lord," Bellatrix said, immediately bowing deeply before her master. "I would never fail you."

Voldemort extended his hand towards the woman. "Hand me them," he said.

Bellatrix walked over, the clicking of her heels dulled by the thick carpet on the floor. Voldemort smiled when she presented him with the locket, eagerly pushing it into his outstretched palm. But she carried another item.

"I thank you for the honour of being allowed to keep this safe, my Lord," Bellatrix said, handing Voldemort a small golden cup. It had a badger engraved in it and had two handles. Voldemort eagerly took it from her, his smile widening all the more.

"Perfect," he said. "That leaves only one."

Bellatrix seemed curious. "Can I help, my Lord?" she asked. "I'll do anything."

"Not this time, Bella," Voldemort replied. "You've done quite enough. No, this is a task for someone else entirely. I will summon him soon."

Bellatrix seemed a bit put out but she hid it well as she bowed deeply. "As you wish, my Lord," she said. Walking backwards, she retreated out of the room, closing the door behind her with a soft click. Voldemort hung the necklace around his neck and gently stroked the badger on the cup he was still holding.

"Only one," he repeated to the shadows.

Then, Harry felt a surge of unbridled anger that wasn't his. The scene in his head swirled until the colours blended into black and he was forcefully expelled from Voldemort's mind. If that was where he had been in the first place. When he opened his eyes, he expected to find the vision of Tom standing in front of him, ready to kill but what he saw instead was the pale visage of Severus who had put both hands on Harry's shoulders and was looking at him intently.

Harry blinked a few times, slow to recognise where he was. His eyes darted across the room. He was in Severus' office and Ron and Hermione were with him this time.

"Harry," Severus baritone voice urged. Harry looked at him again and noticed the slight tremor in Severus' hands and the way he lightly clenched his jaw as he sometimes did when he tried to hide his pain.

"Harry, are you alright?" he asked.

"I'm… fine," Harry replied, still a bit uncertain about the truth of it. "You weren't supposed to get up, you know."

Severus scoffed. With his thumb, he wiped something off of Harry's forehead. When he withdrew, Harry saw that it was coated in blood. Before he could say anything, he was engulfed in the professor's dark robes as the man enveloped him in an embrace. From behind Severus' shoulders, he could see Hermione and Ron staring at them, their mouths agape in surprise. But Harry didn't care.

"I'm fine," he repeated, this time sure of it. "Thank you. For coming to get me."

"Of course," Severus murmured. "Always."

* * *

_Thank you all for reading! I really wonder what you all thought of this so please don't neglect to leave me a review.  
I'll see you on Friday!_


	40. Chapter 40

_For those who noticed, yes, I changed the rating to M. No, that doesn't mean that something horrible is coming up anytime soon. It just means that a few recent reviews got me worried that, maybe, I misrated the fic and I don't want to risk the story getting deleted. Blame my paranoia._

_Thank you all very much for your reviews. I got over 1500 now and you have no idea how happy that makes me. My eternal love is yours. Please enjoy the next chapter!_

* * *

**Chapter 40**

"How long was I out?" Harry asked when Severus had finally let him go. The dark man sat down heavily in his chair, the strain on his leg clearly too much. Harry wanted to ask him how bad it was but he doubted that the man would appreciate such a show of weakness in front of his two friends. They were already plenty befuddled because of his impromptu hug.

"No more than twenty minutes," Severus replied, eyeing Harry curiously.

"You suddenly left the common room," Hermione said. "I asked you where you were going but you gave me this very bland look and then –" Hermione shuddered. "The most creepy smile."

Harry didn't really know what to say to that. "Er… sorry?" he said uncomfortably.

Hermione shook her head. "It wasn't your fault," she said. "And it's not that you did anything. But I knew that _it_ was happening again so I woke Ron and we went after you."

"Yeah," Ron said. "But you didn't get very far before Sn –" he glanced at Severus. "Before Professor Snape caught up with you."

"It's fascinating, really," Hermione said enthusiastically. "To see how a cognitive trace works. It's astoundingly useful."

"Indeed," Severus replied dryly.

"So then what happened?" Harry asked. "I didn't try anything, did I?"

"You laughed," Ron said, sounding almost as if he was in awe. "I don't know why but you did. And then, you went very still. You stopped walking and you just stood there. Staring at nothing."

"I guided you here," Severus said. "Before anyone was able to see you. Your friends –" he glared at Ron and Hermione, "refused to leave your side."

"I'm not apologising for being worried about my friend," Ron said resolutely. "I realise that you've done a lot for Harry but I can't just let you take care of everything from here on out. He needs us too."

Harry blinked. "Ron…"

"If I didn't appreciate your sentiment, I wouldn't have allowed you entry, now would I?" Severus sighed. Harry frowned when he saw Severus' drawn face.

"Sir," he said. "Can I get you something?"

Severus chuckled darkly. "You worry far too much for others," he said. "You only just escaped the grasp of the darkest wizard of our time, you realise?"

"Ha!" Harry said, preening a bit as he recalled his actions. "I didn't escape him. _He's_ the one who escaped _me_."

"What?" Ron exclaimed. Hermione was visibly shaking and Severus just stared.

"I beg your pardon?" the man asked with a timbre to his voice that, somehow, didn't bode well.

"There's no need to look so surprised," Harry said.

But Severus obviously wanted to know more. "Are you seriously telling us that you somehow did battle with the Dark Lord – a skilled Occlumens and Legilimens – in your mind and emerged victoriously?"

"You make it sound unbelievable," Harry said. "But yes. That's exactly what happened."

Severus looked at Ron and Hermione and narrowed his eyes. "Leave," he said. "Your services are no longer required."

Ron was ready to object. "But –"

"Mr Weasley, I am not in the mood for explanations or further reasoning with either of you," Severus said sharply. "I am convinced that Mr Potter will converse with you about this topic at a later time but for now, I require his undivided attention. Do I make myself clear?"

The tone of his voice left no room for argument. His piercing gaze told of horrible detentions waiting for those who disobeyed and Ron and Hermione took the hint.

"We'll see you later, Harry," Hermione said as she grabbed Ron's wrist to tug him along. "I'm glad you're alright."

"Sir?" Ron said when he was almost out the door. Severus looked at him impatiently but listened nonetheless. "Thank you," the redhead said. "You know, for taking care of Harry the way you have. We know how much you did."

Harry flushed with embarrassment but Severus merely nodded his appreciation. And then they left.

"Let us retire to my quarters," Severus said. "I'm certain we'll be more comfortable there."

"Well, I'm sure that you don't _have_ to decorate your office with the most uncomfortable of chairs ever known to man."

Severus opened the doorway and let Harry's remark go. It was a testament to how horrible he felt that he didn't dignify Harry's quip with a retort. In the sitting room, he immediately lowered himself into his favourite chair and motioned for Harry to take his normal place as well.

"Can I get you a pain reliever potion?" Harry asked.

"Later," Severus said. "First, I need you to explain to me exactly what happened."

Harry frowned. "You're clearly in p-"

"Harry!" Severus exclaimed. "I cannot for the life of me imagine how you can think that anything is more important than what just happened. If you truly bested the Dark Lord in any way, we need to be able to reconstrue that event and use it to our advantage!"

Harry, who was actually feeling pretty proud of himself for getting the better of Voldemort, now felt quite put out.

"I was only worrying about you, you great git!" he said. He petulantly crossed his arms and leaned back into the far corner of the couch.

_Fine. Go ahead and suffer. See if I care._

"Your explanation," Severus urged curtly.

"I was in my mind, like always," Harry said. "But this time, I was able to create a path away from the lake. It led me to my own Occlumency walls and there I saw him."

"The Dark Lord?" Severus asked.

Harry nodded. "Yes, but he looked like he was about my age. He looked almost exactly like the boy that came out of Tom Riddle's diary. He didn't see me. He was clearly focusing on something else. Probably on controlling me."

"Then what happened?" Severus urged.

"I used Legilimency," Harry said casually, knowing that his tone would rile Severus up all the more.

"You what?" Severus exclaimed. "You foolish boy. How could you ever conceive of that course of action as a smart one? You've practised the skill _once_. Once! I would expect more even from a Gryffindor such as yourself!"

Harry physically recoiled from Severus' outburst. "What else was I supposed to do?" he yelled back. "Just stand there and watch him use me like that? Maybe you would have liked it better if I just tried punching him in the face? Next time, I'll just try drowning him in my imaginary lake. How does that sound?" Harry got up to go to his room but Severus stopped him.

"You are not done yet," he said dangerously. "Sit back down."

"No!" Harry said. "Not if you're going to get mad about every little thing I did."

"I will not tolerate your disobedience," Severus said, also rising from his seat. "Sit down right now or face the consequences."

For a few long seconds, Harry hesitated. But then, he decided to just sit back down and get it over with.

"Fine," he grumbled.

Severus narrowed his eyes and sat back down as well. "After you so foolishly cast Legilimens, what happened?" he asked.

"There was no resistance whatsoever," Harry said, now trying to keep his voice as neutral as he could. "I doubt old Tom could defend himself while rummaging around in my mind." Harry ignored the disapproving expression on Severus' face and continued. "It was so easy, I even managed to view a memory before he finally realised I was in there."

"A memory?" Severus echoed. "Of what?"

This was when Harry lost his façade and sighed leaning forward on his knees. "I saw Bellatrix give him the amulet," he said. "And she also brought him a cup with a badger on it. I think it was another Horcrux but I don't know where she got it. Now he only needs one more."

"Did he say that?" Severus asked quietly. Harry nodded.

"And when he found out that you invaded his mind?" Severus prompted.

"He threw me out and the next thing I knew, I saw you," Harry said. "You know the rest so can I go now?"

"We still need to discuss your foolish actions," Severus growled.

"There's nothing to talk about," Harry insisted angrily. "I saw an opportunity and I took it. And it's good that I did because it's not as if _you've_ been bringing in any valuable information, lately!"

Without waiting for Severus' response, Harry rushed into his room, slamming the door behind him. How dare the man reprimand him like that? This was _exactly_ the reason Severus wanted Harry to learn Legilimency in the first place! And now that he had successfully broken into Voldemort's mind, the man was _upset_ about it!

Harry scoffed to himself. This was what he was being trained for. Severus had no right blaming him for using the tools he had handed Harry himself.

Angrily, Harry kicked off his shoes, sending them flying to opposite ends of the room.

This really was infuriating. He had expected to be commended. For Severus to, maybe, even be proud of him what he'd done. But he wasn't. No, because no matter what Harry did, he was still a Gryffindor. One that impulsively tries to do what's right. And nothing Harry ever did would be good enough.

Okay, so he shouldn't have said what he said either. But he wasn't exactly feeling magnanimous enough to apologise right now. Instead, he quickly got ready for the night and buried himself underneath his covers. A small part of him was secretly hoping that Severus would come in, to maybe clear the air. But he didn't and Harry was left to his restless night.

* * *

When Harry woke up the next morning, he still wasn't over his anger, though it had cooled considerably. Even that residual anger left him, though, when he walked into the sitting room to find Severus sleeping in the same chair Harry had left him. He didn't look comfortable in the slightest. A pang of guilt crept through Harry's chest. Severus had clearly still been suffering and in his bout of anger, Harry had completely chosen to ignore that.

_Crap._

"Severus," Harry said, carefully nudging the sleeping professor. "Severus, wake up."

When the man opened his eyes, they narrowed instantly when he spotted Harry. "Done with your temper tantrum?" he asked sardonically but Harry could hear from the sound of his voice that he was not doing alright.

"I don't think you'll be able to teach classes today," Harry pointed out.

Severus scoffed. "I hardly need you to worry about me and my capabilities," he said. "I've never failed to teach a class and I won't start now."

Harry frowned. "This masochistic behaviour is not doing anyone any good, you know," he said. "I'm sure the headm –" Harry broke off abruptly when he realised that Dumbledore was no longer in charge but rather Umbridge.

"I see that you've reached a similar conclusion as I have," Severus said coldly. "It hardly seems appropriate for me to claim injury now."

"You're being way too stubborn," Harry said.

"I'm exactly as stubborn as I need to be," Severus replied coldly.

"What does that –" Harry sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose to try and calm his annoyance with the man. "You're being childish."

"Tread carefully, Potter," Severus warned coldly. "You are on thin ice."

"Oh, Potter, is it?" Harry replied. "Are you going to revert back to our old roles whenever you're upset? Because it's getting really old really quick."

"You are not my guardian nor are you my keeper," Severus said harshly. "You have no right to tell me what I can and cannot do. My presence is required. Especially now."

Harry knew what he meant by that. It was more than likely that someone else had gone missing since Harry had experienced another blackout.

"You don't know if it's someone from Slytherin," Harry said evenly.

"That is precisely the point," Severus snapped. "I _don't_ know. Which is why I need to look into it. As it stands, do you truly think the heads of houses only worry for the students of their _own_ house?"

"All the more reason for you to take a break," Harry said. "Let someone else take over for now."

Severus sneered and got up. His injured leg trembled but it was hardly noticeable underneath his teaching robes. Robes he hadn't even changed out of for the night. "I've endured far worse than this. Preserve your concern for someone more deserving of it."

Severus walked through the door that led to his office with Harry hot on his trail. The Gryffindor was not about to floo up to his own common room. Not right now.

"What is _that_ supposed to mean?" he asked. "Is this about yesterday?"

"You should go up and eat something," Severus said sharply.

"That makes two of us," Harry replied curtly. "Come on. I'm sorry, alright? I shouldn't have said what I said. I was just… upset."

Severus slammed both of his hands down onto his desk, looking down as he leaned heavily onto the old piece of furniture. "Harry," he bit out. "I will not have you endanger your life or my position by being here right now. Get back into my quarters and floo up to your common room."

When Harry hesitated, Severus sighed and looked at him. "Both of us have said things that were likely not our intention," he said. "It is not something we can't overcome. But for now, I need you to forget about it and follow my direction. Go, Harry. I will consult with Poppy after this day is over."

"Yeah, alright," Harry said. "Just… be careful, alright?"

Snape merely nodded which Harry knew he was supposed to accept as a final answer. Knowing that he couldn't possibly change the man's mind now, he decided to obey.

He realised that he was quite late when he arrived in the common room. Nearly everyone had already gone down to the Great Hall and that seemed to include Ron and Hermione. Harry could only hope this didn't mean that someone from Gryffindor was taken. He sighed when he realised just how awful that thought was. It didn't matter from which house someone disappeared now. It was bad, no matter what.

When he finally arrived in the Great Hall, he noticed that everyone was whispering quietly again. That was never a good sign. His gaze swept across his house table really quickly to see if anyone recognisable wasn't there but he didn't notice anyone missing. A glance at the High Table confirmed Severus' presence. He had gotten there quite quickly and Harry wondered if he used some sort of secret tunnel Harry didn't know about yet.

_Stubborn, foolish Slytherin._

Harry simply raised an eyebrow when Severus' gaze snapped up to look directly at him. But no retort was given. Harry took his seat next to Hermione. It was only then that his friends even seemed to notice that he was there.

"Harry!" Hermione said in surprise. "I didn't think you'd come today."

Harry frowned. "Why not?" he asked.

"Well, Snape wasn't here," Ron said. "So we thought you decided to eat – you know – downstairs."

Harry shook his head. "I just overslept a bit, I guess. Is anyone missing?"

Hermione shot him a sympathetic look. "Oh, Harry –"

But whatever she was going to say got interrupted when Harry was bumped from behind, causing him to spill his pumpkin juice all over himself. He turned around quickly to see two burly-looking Slytherins glaring at him menacingly. Harry recognised them both from Quidditch even if Montague didn't play anymore.

"Montague, Warrington," Harry greeted as if he was seeing some random acquaintance. "Still upset about our victory?"

"Cut the crap, Potter," Warrington hissed. "If it wasn't clear before that you're behind these disappearances, then it sure as hell is now!"

"Whoa!" Ron exclaimed. "What are you on about?"

"Don't even try to hide it," Montague hissed. "It's obvious, isn't it? If only because the house that's most affected is Slytherin."

"Oh, of course," Harry drawled. "And everyone knows I hate Slytherins. And that I'm the only one who does."

Warrington grabbed Harry by the collar and half-lifted him off the bench. Harry's hand automatically covered the fist digging into his collarbone but he maintained eye contact with the ferocious Slytherin. He was vaguely aware that the people around them had quieted down entirely. "Think what you will, Warrington," Harry hissed. "But this isn't on me."

"Enough!" A baritone voice interrupted. Harry looked up to see Severus staring down at him with absolute contempt. Harry knew that it was a front but he still gulped involuntarily. "Mr Potter, you will stop provoking the members of my house. The fact that you won a meaningless game – which only happened because you have the superior broom – does not give you the right to go traipsing around the school as if you're better than everyone else."

Harry, who was still not let go, shot Severus an incredulous look. "I'm the one being attacked here!" he said. It was then that Warrington abruptly let him go, causing Harry to sit back down with an audible 'oomph'.

"I see no current evidence of that," Severus replied silkily.

Harry was about to retort when Umbridge suddenly appeared next to Severus. "Ah, Mr Potter," she said sweetly. "Causing a disturbance again, are we?" She looked at Montague who nodded sharply. "Yes, I see. It would appear that you haven't yet learned any manners, have you?"

Harry could feel the colour drain from his face.

"He didn't do anything!" Ron said bravely.

"Ron, hush," Harry hissed at him.

"Those two oafs are the ones that attacked _him_," Fred said angrily from a few seats over.

"I would hope that those in the inquisitorial squad would show more decorum than this," Hermione said bravely, but Harry noticed her hands tremble a bit. Standing up to a teacher – and now a headmaster – had never been her forte, which made Harry appreciate her efforts all the more.

"That. Will. Do, "Severus said dangerously. He looked absolutely pale and Harry imagined that the man really didn't do well standing that long. "Detention, Mr Potter," he said icily. "See me in my office at seven."

And then, with a swish of his robes, he swept back over to the table. Umbridge seemed to be disappointed as well as elated. An odd mix of conflicting emotions that Harry could only contribute to the fact that she wanted to punish Harry herself, but enjoyed the idea of Harry's most hated professor doling out the punishment for once. In the end, she settled for a triumphant smirk in Harry's direction that seemed to imply that she had planned this all along and then followed after Severus. Harry could already see the man having a heated discussion with McGonagall which stopped abruptly when Umbridge got too close.

"We won't forgive you for this, Potter," Montague huffed, pushing him one last time before the two Slytherins hurried back to their tables.

"Are you alright, mate?" Ron asked.

"Yeah," Harry said as he watched the Slytherins' retreat. "Someone from Slytherin disappeared then?"

"Two people," Hermione corrected.

Harry frowned. Two at once again? Voldemort hadn't been kidding that he wanted to speed this along. "Who?" he asked.

"Blaise Zabini and –" Hermione sighed. "Theo."

The roll Harry was holding crumpled in his hand.

* * *

Harry really didn't feel like attending the DA meeting that day. There weren't a whole lot of people left to go anyway. But he needed to let off some steam. And he wanted to know if Malfoy had done what Harry had asked of him. So he found himself standing in the room of requirement once more with Ron and Hermione as they waited for the rest to show up.

Malfoy, surprisingly, was early and the first to sneak inside.

"Did you get in?" Harry asked.

Malfoy snorted. "Good afternoon, yourself," he drawled. "Goodness, Umbridge wasn't kidding about your manners, was she?"

"Malfoy," Harry growled. He was not in the mood for games.

"Of course I did," Malfoy said, physically waving away Harry's doubt with his hand. "What did you expect? I'm a Malfoy. She all but cried tears of happiness when I told her I wanted to join her squad."

"What is she planning?" Harry demanded. "Why did she take over the school and why is she not doing anything about these disappearances?"

Malfoy frowned, his cheeky grin soon gone. "Potter," he said. "I've been admitted to her ranks for less than a day. Surely, you can't expect me to have any sort of insight into all of her diabolical schemes, can you?"

"Please," Ron scoffed. "You have some idea, at least. I know it."

"Ah, _that_ I do," Malfoy said jovially. "The answer to the conundrum that is her new position is obvious, is it not?"

Ron nodded. "Yeah, I agree."

"Do enlighten me," Harry said, glaring in frustration at the two purebloods in front of him.

"Hogwarts is now in the hands of the ministry," Malfoy said.

"And since Umbridge was already here, as a professor, it was a very small step to choose her as Dumbledore's successor," Ron added.

"Which is probably why she was planted here in the first place," Malfoy pointed out.

"Wait, hold on," Harry said. "That would mean that they were planning on overthrowing Dumbledore from the start!"

"Most likely," Malfoy agreed. "The Minister hasn't been too happy with Dumbledore since the end of last year, after all."

Harry scoffed. "He hasn't been too happy with _me_ either. Is he trying to get rid of me as well?"

Malfoy looked at him strangely. "Yes," he said.

Harry blinked. He hadn't expected an answer that straight forward. "Yes?" he repeated. "I wasn't actually serious."

"You were trying to prove a point," Malfoy replied. "You want to believe that the Minister has good intentions and would never resort to such… ah, Slytherin means."

"That's not true," Harry said. "Fudge is worthless."

"I wonder about that," Malfoy replied. "He certainly appears worthless. Perhaps even a bit foolish. But if he was planning to get rid of Dumbledore all along, he does possess the ability to plan ahead."

"Why would he try to look like an idiot when he's not?" Harry asked. "That doesn't make any sense."

"Plausible deniability," Ron said easily.

"Exactly!" Malfoy said.

Harry looked at Hermione who seemed to be very uncomfortable with their current conversation.

"If things go the way he wants them to, all the better for him," Malfoy explained. "If things don't, he can just claim incompetence, and no one will think twice about it."

"Not a dumb thing to do in the current climate," Ron agreed.

"Wait," Harry said. "Go back to the part where you think he wants to get rid of me."

"He's denying the fact that You-Know-Who returned," Malfoy pointed out. "Even though he could easily collect your memory to find out the truth. Why do you think that is?"

"Because he's a coward," Harry growled.

"No," Ron breathed as if he just realised something. "He wants to blame you."

Harry's eyes widened. Hadn't Umbridge alluded to that as well, before?

Malfoy nodded. "Yes, you get it," he said.

"Harry had nothing to do with that, and Fudge knows it!" Hermione exclaimed. "He says it was an accident!"

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "Ever heard of involuntary manslaughter?" he asked. "People still get charged for that."

"I really don't think they'd go that far," Hermione said. "The Minister would never wrongfully accuse a child like that."

Malfoy snorted. "Don't be naïve, Granger," he said. "Fudge will do anything to stay on top. If that means sacrificing the Boy-Who-Lived simply because he's saying things he doesn't want to hear then yes, he most certainly will."

"If that is really the case, he could strike at any moment," Ron said.

"Yes," Malfoy agreed. "Now that he finally got rid of Dumbledore, getting to Potter will be much easier."

"He can't do that!" Hermione exclaimed. "People won't stand for it!"

"Won't they?" Malfoy asked. "Tell me, Granger, just how many people are on Potter's side right now?"

"Well –"

"And how many of the people who believe him to be guilty of the disappearances will doubt Fudge's word when he blames Harry for Diggory's death?"

"No," Harry breathed. "That can't be."

"Can't it?" Malfoy asked. "Why do you think that people like Montague are feeding into the rumour? Not because they really think you're behind all of this, I assure you."

"Of course," Ron said. "Umbridge is setting them up to it."

"Precisely," Malfoy said. "On that note, I might accuse you of the same thing sometime soon. I am, after all, pretending to be on _her_ side at the moment."

"How much longer do you think I have?" Harry asked.

"Until the disappearances stop," Malfoy said. "If they take you before that, everyone will realise that you had nothing to do with that and their plan could fall apart."

"That's amazing, Malfoy," Hermione said earnestly.

Malfoy raised his chin a little. "Yes, well, it's all speculation, of course."

"No," Ron said, seemingly deep in thought. "It does make a lot of sense. Fudge would be killing two birds with one stone this way. He'd be getting rid of Harry Potter while simultaneously 'solving' this case. He'd be regarded as a hero."

"Until Voldemort does show himself," Harry said.

"Problems for future Fudge," Malfoy shrugged. "Perhaps he hopes that, by then, someone else is in charge so _they_ can be blamed for it."

"We should tell someone," Hermione said. "Professor McGonagall, maybe. She'll help!"

"There's nothing she can realistically do, though," Malfoy said. "Umbridge is the one with the power now. All we can do, for the moment, is lay low."

"For how long?" Harry urged.

Malfoy smirked. "Don't worry, Potter," he said. "You'll have your chance."

* * *

After a DA session in which Harry's heart really hadn't been in it, he was making his way towards Severus' office for his detention when he was stopped in his tracks by the last person he wanted to see. Ever. He would even take Voldemort over her.

"Good evening, Mr Potter," came Umbridge's sickly sweet voice. A shiver went through Harry's body as he turned to face the pompously pink toad. Hoping that she would be far too busy with her Headmistress duties to keep picking on him seemed to have been in vain.

"Good evening, Professor," Harry replied evenly.

"Headmistress," Umbridge corrected smugly. And then she waited patiently, rapping her fingers inside of her crossed arms while staring at Harry expectantly.

"Good evening, Headmistress," Harry said through gritted teeth. She _had_ to know, as much as anyone else, that she would never be the true headmistress in the eyes of the students and the staff alike. But she liked to delude herself, Harry supposed.

Umbridge glanced around the empty corridors before fixing her predatory gaze on Harry. She smiled and took on the tone one might use to speak to a toddler.

"Harry," she said. "I'm afraid that we might have gotten off on the wrong foot."

Startled, Harry took a clumsy step back. "W-What?" he stammered.

Umbridge reached out and put a hand on Harry's shoulder. He couldn't help but flinch slightly and could easily see how happy that made Umbridge. He wished heavily that she would just back off and leave him alone but she didn't. She put up a worried façade and leaned in closer to Harry. Her perfume stank horribly and Harry felt as if he might suffocate.

"Though your detentions were, of course, well-deserved, I can imagine that they made you somewhat apprehensive to approach me from then on," Umbridge said.

_What is going on? Just leave me alone!_

Harry's mind screamed at him to get out of there but his body stood frozen in place.

Umbridge nodded knowingly. "Yes," she said with mock-regret lacing her tongue thickly. "I can see the terror in your eyes. But I feel a want to… make amends, as they say."

"Make amends?" Harry spat out impulsively. "What could you possibly say to make your behaviour alright?"

"Watch it, young man," Umbridge said as her grip on his shoulder tightened. "I may be willing to mend our relationship but I will not stand for your rudeness."

Harry scoffed but didn't say anything else.

_Just go jump in a volcano like the dragon-lady you are._

"Now," Umbridge said, pushing for that sweet tone once again. "What do you say to joining me in my private chambers for a little talk?" Her free hand came up and cupped Harry's cheek. His blood ran cold as ice at the touch and he tried to back off but Umbridge kept him firmly in place.

He didn't want to go to her private chambers. Who would? Harry had a horrible feeling about Umbridge's intentions. He was not a fool. He saw the way she looked at him every time he writhed in pain. He saw the delight on her face with every drop of blood she had managed to draw. This woman was depraved beyond all comprehension. Stepping foot into not her office but her _private_ chambers sounded too horrific for words.

"No, thank you," Harry replied, trying to keep his tone steady. "I have something else I need to do tonight."

_You know that I have detention! You were there._

"Oh?" Umbridge replied, her tone disappointed. "Are you quite certain of that?" the hand on Harry's cheek moved to the back of his head where Umbridge grabbed a fistful of his hair and roughly pulled his head back. Harry grit his teeth. He wanted to physically attack her and run towards Severus as fast as he could but where would that get him? Even if she was only temporarily the Headmistress, she could still expel him. She might even throw him into Azkaban for reasons she was imagining.

Umbridge licked her lips disgustingly. "You and I both know what happens if you oppose me," she said, her voice a mockery of seduction.

"I'm not!" Harry forced out, feeling like prey caught by a wolf. "I have detention. With Professor Snape. You were right there when he assigned it to me."

The grip on his hair tightened for a moment before Umbridge released him. "Oh, Harry," she said. It was maddening how easily her tone could change. She flipped between dangerous and sweet like a cat on catnip. He hated the sound of her name on his lips. He couldn't explain why but it was horrifying. It was wrong.

"It must be horrible that no one understands you," she said. Harry clenched his jaw. He wanted nothing more than to escape. Why was there no one in the corridors?

"I see the way your supposed friends look at you. They're afraid of you aren't they?"

Harry didn't reply. He didn't want to give this vile creature the satisfaction.

Umbridge tutted and then, horrifyingly enough, put her arms around Harry in a parody of an embrace. Harry stiffened at the touch "It must be so hard for you," Umbridge whispered in his ear. "To have no one who will stand up for you. But I know that, deep down, you are a good boy. Aren't you?"

"Please," Harry said, breathing in the toxic fumes that Umbridge thought of as perfume. "I'm going to be late."

"Your professor will understand," Umbridge said. "I _am_ the headmistress after all."

_Oh, _hell_ no._

Harry ducked down to escape Umbridge's disgusting embrace and, when finally released from her suffocating grasp, took a few steps back, determined not to get caught by her again.

Umbridge seemed very affronted by his actions but he didn't care. "Harry," she said again. "Are you declining my efforts to patch things up with you?"

"Yes," Harry said, narrowing his eyes at her. "We don't need to, as you say, patch things up, _Headmistress_. It's fine."

"That's really too bad," Umbridge said, sighing theatrically. "But I can see that I can't convince you. But that's alright. I'll just ask someone else to keep me company tonight." She smiled venomously and Harry took another step back. "Perhaps I'll send a missive to Ms Granger. She always seems to be looking for ways to get extra credit."

"Leave her alone!" Harry shouted.

Umbridge smiled at him. "You know," she said. "I always found that young girls scream just as nicely as young boys do." She turned on her heel and walked away. "Have a fabulous evening, Mr Potter," she said, not even waiting for a reply.

Harry stood frozen in place as he watched her walk away. She was bluffing… wasn't she? There was no way that she would torture anyone that had parents to complain to. Even if they were muggles. Honestly, he wasn't too convinced of that, himself. But what could he do?

He glanced behind him. He had to go to Snape. If he didn't, the man would know that something was wrong. He would come looking for Harry. But, Hermione might be in danger! She was a smart girl, though. She would definitely decline an invitation from Umbridge, even if she was a teacher. Wouldn't she? And even if she didn't, Ron would definitely not let her go. Right?

_What do I do? What do I do?!_

His thoughts were whirring chaotically in his mind and he hurriedly strengthened his Occlumency walls. The vision of the pouring rain and the glacier that was overrun by waterfalls here and there were calming him down somewhat. But not enough to evaporate all of his fears.

But dilly-dallying wasn't getting him anywhere either. Especially when he was doing so in the dungeons. No, he had to go. He had to face Severus.

* * *

_You didn't think I forgot about Umbridge now did you? Please leave me a review, if you will._


	41. Chapter 41

_This chapter. This bloody chapter. It made me want to throw things! In particular at my beta. I'm looking at you, Pagemaster4TW! He made me rewrite this thing twice. Twice! But, I'll give credit where credit is due. It turned out very well. So thanks, my dear, for making me want to pull my hair out.  
Enjoy!_

* * *

**Chapter 41**

Harry all but ran to Severus' office but skidded to a halt at the last moment. Breathing heavily, he tried to collect himself. He honestly didn't know what to do. With his right arm outstretched, he leaned against the wall, looking at the ground as he tried to steady his breathing. He had to think about this rationally. Then it would all make sense. Umbridge was trying to get to him. She wouldn't _really_ go after Hermione, would she? She was just taunting Harry. Hermione had no reason to keep quiet if Umbridge would dare to so much as lay a finger on her. There was no doubt in Harry's mind that Hermione knew all about wizarding law.

_But what if she doesn't?_

The hand leaning against the wall curled into a fist but the nails digging into Harry's palm did nothing to alleviate his worries. Why did Umbridge have to do this? Didn't the woman see that Harry would not be able to keep quiet anymore if she went around threatening his friends? Or is that what she wanted in the first place? Maybe she thought that no one would believe The-Boy-Who-Lied.

Angrily, Harry pounded his fist against the stone wall. It didn't give way. It didn't crumble. Harry wished that his resolve was as strong.

"Damn it!"

Mere seconds after Harry realised that he had exclaimed that last bit out loud, the door to Severus' office opened, revealing the Potions Master himself. He frowned down at Harry before carefully examining the hallway. When he was content that no one else was around, he grabbed  
Harry's wrist and pulled him into his office before closing the door with a soft click.

"You are distressed," Severus said.

Harry made a weird sound in the back of his throat. Distressed didn't even begin to describe what he felt but he still didn't know what to do about it. It was ridiculous that _this_ was what would undo him. Umbridge had already hurt him so much but the mere mention of his friend in this context was what nearly sent him into a panic attack.

"Harry," Severus urged. "What is wrong?"

When Harry looked up, he found himself seated in front of Severus' desk with no recollection of how he got there. Severus was standing behind said desk, his hands leaning on top of it. In the past, Harry would have felt anxious about the way Severus was now looming over him. But not anymore.

"I can't say," Harry said, shaking his head in denial. He knew that his distress was obvious but he didn't know how to get himself together anymore.

"Harry," Severus said sternly, trying to get his attention. "Whatever it is, you can tell me."

But Harry couldn't, could he? What could Severus even do to protect Hermione at this point? To protect him? Umbridge was now in total control of the school and if she wanted to sack Severus, she could do just that. And if Voldemort found out about that, it wouldn't be a good day for Severus."

"I can't!" Harry exclaimed frantically.

Severus was frowning now. He didn't look happy with Harry in the slightest and Harry could hardly blame the man. He was injured. Two more of his Slytherins had disappeared. He was still working on that blasted potion and Dumbledore was gone. To top that all off, he had been babysitting Harry for the last couple of months. And now this! But Harry _had_ to tell Severus. Didn't he?

_What choice do I even have?_

"Harry, look at me," Severus said. The deep baritone of his voice managed to calm Harry down somewhat. But only slightly. Harry obeyed and looked Severus in the eye. "You are not a burden to me. Stop thinking that you are."

Harry frowned. He hadn't felt the obvious tell of Severus' Legilimency.

"I don't have to read your mind to recognise your emotions," Severus clarified easily. "It's written all over your face. Just tell me what's wrong. Does it have to do with what occurred this morning?"

"No," Harry denied softly.

"I can't help you if you don't let me," Severus said, frustration evident in his voice.

Harry knew that the man was right. He really did. But he hadn't the faintest idea about how to broach this subject or even if it would be safe to do so. He _wanted_ the man to help him but he didn't know how to _let_ him.

"Harry," Severus said, his voice taking on a low tone. "If you so desire, we could play twenty questions to get to the bottom of your current concerns but it would take a lot more time than I think either of us would appreciate."

Harry grit his teeth. "It's not about wasting time," he said. "It's just –" what was it, really? Harry's mind felt as if it was at war with himself. What he wanted to do and what he felt he should do were in conflict with one another. It was frustrating to not be able to voice any of it and he helplessly looked at Severus.

The man frowned at him and rapped his fingers against his desk as if in deep thought. "You're struggling with something," he pointed out. "I can tell as much but I need you to confide in me, Harry."

Angrily, Harry got up from his seat – too irked to stay put – and started pacing the small office from wall to wall. "You don't understand," he said. "I trust you. I do. But this is different from before." He clasped his hands behind his back in a fervent attempt to keep himself steady but in the back of his mind, a voice of doubt was playing with him. A voice that told him that some things were best left unsaid.

"I, in no way, wish to violate your trust, Harry," Severus said calmly. "But I will attempt to breach your mind if this carries on for much longer. I cannot, in good conscience, let this go."

Harry felt his eyes sting and he furiously turned towards a desk that stood by itself against the wall. Summoning forth the strength he did not know he possessed, he upturned the heavy piece of furniture with both hands in a fit of rage that seemed to come out of nowhere."

His tongue was unable to form the words he so desperately wanted Severus to hear.

_Help me._

He kicked angrily at the desk, large pieces of it coming loose at random intervals when the wood could no longer take his violent despair. Much like himself. When the desk was completely in shambles, Harry stood there, panting heavily whilst looking at the mess he caused.

"Are you quite finished?" Severus drawled. The man still sat behind his desk, regarding Harry with a look that betrayed no emotion. Harry only vaguely realised that he had just trashed the man's furniture.

"I have a few more desks sitting in the back if you're not," Severus offered. "Or would you rather I summon a few of my Slytherins for you to rage against?"

"Very funny," Harry replied flatly. He knew that the man was trying to lift his spirits somewhat but he could not really appreciate that at the moment. "Maybe I should just go."

"Your detention has scarcely begun," Severus said. He sounded tired. "You will not leave until you're finished."

"Fine," Harry agreed evenly. "Then give me an assignment."

Severus stared at him without any expression for a long time. "We shall be practising Occlumency," he said plainly as if Harry had not just lashed out against an innocent piece of wood.

Harry huffed in frustration. He stepped away from the desk. It was no more than firewood now, anyway. The way Snape sat stoically, his fingers now steepled as he watched Harry's frantic movements with calm obsidian eyes made Harry want to throw something at him. But, to be fair, a part of him appreciated what the man was trying to do. He was looking out for Harry. And Harry knew that. But _he_ was trying to look out for Severus. There was no telling what Umbridge could do to him if she knew he knew. And he would have succeeded damn it!

_If not for Hermione._

Severus frowned. "What of Ms Granger?" he asked. "Does she require assistance?"

"Stay out of my head!" Harry snapped reflexively.

"This farce has gone on long enough," Severus bit out angrily. He had clearly used up all of his patience. "Sit down." Harry sensed that the man would not allow for any more disagreements. He sat back down, crossed his arms and looked away.

"Look at me," Severus urged again.

Automatically, Harry looked at Severus, completely taken aback by the despairing sound of his voice. That unguarded moment was all the potions master needed. He had already lifted his wand and before Harry knew it, the man had cast that dreadfully wonderful spell. There was no hiding things now. Not now that Severus was actively searching.

If only things were that easy. Harry didn't actively try to keep Severus out. He longed for this. He needed this. And yet, his Occlumency walls stood as high and strong as they ever did. Tall glaciers erected themselves to stand guard against the assailant. At uneven intervals, they were broken by waterfalls of melted ice that cascaded down heavily. A severe storm raged all around, seemingly bolstered by Harry's anger. The rain was cold and harsh and could cut through a man's skin if he stood there long enough.

Harry immediately felt Severus' assault. He was looking for weak spots and Harry knew it. He wanted the walls to fall but he could feel a part of him put up a fight and add new layers to them. He thought that the glaciers would hold at first but the onslaught continued for far longer than it ever had before. And soon, the walls faltered.

It was odd. Harry felt relieved because of this first breakthrough but he was unable to express it. Instead, he could feel that part of him that wanted to keep Severus out, fight him tooth and nail for ownership.

Harry could feel Severus' dark presence enter, the feel of the lukewarm water sweeping past him now as familiar and comfortable as the dungeon quarters he spent his time in.

But, unwillingly, Harry cleared his head. He didn't allow any thoughts or memories to be dragged to the forefront of his mind. He didn't want to see them again. If it were up to him, he would just banish them to the back of his mind until they were forgotten forever. So, Instead, he focused his attention on the dark lake that was his inner sanctum. Though it wasn't quite as dark anymore. As he had noticed when Tom was here, some light was filtering through from above.

**Harry, I wish you would stop fighting me.**

Oh, how Harry wished that he could. But he was not the only one in control here. He was fighting himself every step of the way and he was losing.

For a moment, Harry could feel the careful warmth that he knew to be Severus' presence. It was there to comfort him. To tell him that everything would be alright. He revelled in it but it didn't last long.

Out of nowhere, the silhouette of Hermione appeared before him. Harry clenched his eyes shut but it was far too late. He felt more than saw the surrounding area shift into a memory and when he opened his eyes again, he was in the hallway where he had been only moments before. Umbridge was talking to him in that awful way she had about her.

The storm that was brewing near his Occlumency walls seemed to invade this memory. Harsh winds pulled on Harry's robes and seemed to be trying to push him back. Instinctively, he knew that this happened because he didn't want to see this memory again but he also realised that he would have to face Umbridge somehow. And this would be the first step to realising that.

He could sense Severus' confusion and wondered if it had to do with the storm or the banality of the memory. Nothing much had happened, except for the viciously disgusting things the toad had uttered. Something to be worried about, perhaps, but nothing too grave just yet. At least not in the face of what else she had done. The memory ended with Umbridge walking away and Harry wondered if this would be the end of it already.

But now, Umbridge was fresh in his mind and the scenery changed.

Harry desperately didn't want to continue this journey into his mind. He didn't know if he'd be able to handle watching the pain again. But he could feel Severus warm presence and he found himself to be glad for it.

The background that was the dungeon changed to show Umbridge's office. The walls were now adorned with paintings of kittens and ancient porcelain plates that were as ugly as Umbridge's face. But that's not where Harry was looking.

He could feel Severus' anger as they both watched his past self write lines with the blood quill. Yes, it was bad but nothing too bad yet. If Harry could get Severus to believe that this was the worst of it, he might be able to convince the man to let it go. Harry watched Umbridge look at him while she nibbled on the tip of her quill. The small smile on her face was disgusting.

**What is going on here? **

_I'm writing lines._

Harry could feel Severus' irritation with his casual response but he was not about to go crying about this. He felt that this was enough of a visual for Severus to realise what was going on. Any more was not necessary.

**Yes, I can see that much. Why are you using a blood quill? And why haven't you spoken up about it?!**

_Why don't you get out of my mind and we can talk about it now?_

**Trying to outwit a Slytherin has never worked for a Gryffindor before, Mr Potter. And you will definitely not manage that now.**

Harry wanted to reply but the winds swept past him once more and drowned out his words. They carried with them not only rain but also hail that Harry was certain was cutting up his face. The storm seemed to be growing in intensity but was not thick enough to obscure the scene from Harry's vision.

The strong winds swept past the walls and, this time, they didn't only affect Harry himself but also the occupants of the memory and their surroundings. It was mesmerising to watch how the essays on Umbridge's desk started to fly every which way without her so much as batting an eye. The ornamental plates she seemed to value so much were starting to fall and break one by one. Harry only barely noticed that one of them was new to the memory and realised that that had to be where Severus was hiding before that plate shattered as well. The storm and the memory stopped, droplets of water now frozen in time dousing the entire scene in a fantastical sort of sorrow. And then, the memory evaporated.

But they were not thrown from Harry's mind. Instead, they ended up in his inner sanctum once more.

_Haven't you seen enough?_

**Your reaction tells me I have not.**

The water in the lake underfoot was moving as if on an undercurrent. Harry didn't know how to feel. He knew that there was no turning back now. That Severus already knew what was going on. But he didn't want the man to see what Harry knew was yet to come. He didn't want him to witness his pain and the secrets it brought forth. And, more than anything, he didn't want to see them himself.

**Your mind is in turmoil.**

That only amplified Harry's anger and some of the water in the lake sprayed upward. The storm was ever-present and chilled Harry to the bone. Even if he knew that it was all in his mind. It was as if his mind was operating based on the values instilled in him long ago by the people who were supposed to care for him. 'Don't be seen or heard.'

But, damn it, he _would_ be seen. And he _would_ let Severus know about this. No more hiding in cupboards or second bedrooms. No more hiding in darkness and secrets and mindstorms!

The familiar presence of Severus was once again surrounding him. Out of the wild waves dancing in the lake, the painted waters that belonged to the potions master rose steadily in the air, engulfing Harry in a sphere of calm. And for one moment, he was blocked off from all the negativity and all of his doubt. It gave him a moment to recollect his thoughts. To truly realise what it was that he needed. To convince himself into acceptance.

Then, the sphere gently released him. The storm that had been surrounding him lessened into a gentle drizzle before disappearing entirely. A moment later, a vision of a Umbridge complete with pink cardigan appeared in front of him, no doubt as a prompt from Severus. Harry would not fight it. He didn't desire to. Not a single part of him.

Harry knew what was coming next. Umbridge's office appeared again. There was the moment of Harry's defiance where he refused to write his lines with the blood quill. Thinking back now, it really hadn't been worth it. When Umbridge made Harry stand facing his desk while gripping the edges, Harry could feel the fury emanating from Severus' presence.

After the first hit, Severus actually gave up all pretence and appeared right next to Harry as he watched the scene. Harry glanced up at him, happy that it was the Potions Master he was seeing this time."

"What possessed you to keep this a secret?" Severus asked sharply as the scene unfolded. "Harry. What she's doing now, it… surely you understand that she had no right to do such a thing."

Harry sighed. "That's never stopped anyone before."

He tried to act casual about it. To not show Severus just how much this scene was getting to him but it was horrible to watch. The sounds of the stick swishing against Harry's flesh brought back all sorts of wrong memories. And not only this one. But the sight became really vulgar when Umbridge leaned in while grabbing Harry around the waist. She whispered a question in his ear that past Harry shook his head to in reply before continuing her assault. Harry felt sick watching that. The worst part of all of this had been the woman's touches. And he hadn't even noticed all that much at first.

"Is there more?" Severus' voice was strained and Harry could tell that he was trying not to show his emotions. If he did, would he yell? Break down? Would he show sympathy for Harry? Even a little bit? Harry knew that he would.

Harry sighed.

"The truth, please," Severus said. Harry hated how defeated the man sounded. "I don't feel like eviscerating your memory much more at this point but I need to know."

"Just one more," Harry replied, glad to almost be done with this.

Severus looked at him pointedly and Harry knew what he wanted. With a compliant nod, he did his best remembering the last physical altercation he had with Umbridge. The scene didn't have to shift all that much since everything always happened in her horridly pink office. Odd, how such dark events could happen at the hands of a woman who seemed to value such innocent things.

It was horrible being aware of Severus seeing everything like this, even if it was for the better. The moment Umbridge tied his past self's hands together and suspended him in the air, the otherwise stoic Potions Master gasped and took a step forward before he could help himself.

"It wasn't that bad," Harry said, trying to ease Severus' worries. "I didn't break anything."

"What?" Severus snapped, turning on Harry so quickly that Harry had expected his ankles to snap in the process. "_It wasn't that bad_? This woman tortured you, Harry. Actually tortured you!"

_That really wasn't the worst of it._

No sooner had Harry thought that thought and the memory seemed to jump to a later point in time. An hour or so later, if Harry's foggy mind of that moment was any indication. Umbridge got up in Harry's face and asked him about the disappearances. Accusing him of being behind it just like he was behind Cedric's death. According to her, at least. Harry watched her touch him, stroke his jaw and kiss him in the neck. He shivered in disgust all over.

"Please," he said. "There's really nothing more than that. Can we please stop this?"

No sooner had he looked at the Severus of his mindscape as he pleaded for his release when the memory stopped and both wizards were thrown out of Harry's mind. Harry carefully looked at Severus and saw that the man was fuming. His eyes were roaming Harry's entirety as if he was expecting bleeding sores to show themselves at any moment. Then, he grabbed Harry's hand and inspected it. Even though Harry had refused to write the lines early on, the faded scars still spelt out 'I must not tell lies' for those who knew what to look for.

Harry opened his mouth to say something but Severus had sprung into action. He got up so fast that his chair tipped over with a loud clatter. Long, steady strides that betrayed nothing of Severus' injured leg brought him to his door before Harry had even registered what was going. He swung open the door with enough force to make it rebound against the stone wall. Only then did Harry recognise that he should move.

"Professor!" he shouted after the irate man. He stumbled to try and get up as fast as he could and bolted after Severus. The man was not running but his pace was not far off. His wand was drawn and the look on his face was murderous.

"Professor, please stop!" Harry pleaded, sprinting as fast as he could. When he reached Severus, he grabbed hold of his robes, not caring how this would look to anyone they might encounter in the hallways. Despite Harry's grasp, Severus still tried to move until he finally seemed to realise what was holding him back.

"Let go," he snarled. The look in his eyes was enough to make any third-year burst into tears but Harry was not about to let the man throw his career out of the window. Not for him.

"Would you stop being such a Gryffindor and listen to me!" Harry shouted. That seemed to get his attention. Severus spun on him and Harry withdrew against the wall in instinct.

"You expect me to do _nothing_?" Severus snapped. "You cannot _possibly_ be serious!"

A few Slytherins walked past the unlikely pair, chuckling to one another when they saw evidence of Harry being in trouble. "Professor," Harry whispered. "People can see us."

Severus looked at the Slytherins who were still looking at them and they scurried off hastily when they met Severus' murderous glare.

_Please. Don't land yourself in Azkaban for this._

Harry saw that it took every bit of self-restraint Severus had to keep himself from storming off again. His hands were clenched into trembling fists and his jaw was clenched so strongly that Harry wondered if his teeth might crack.

_Let's go back. Alright?_

Harry knew that Severus had heard him when the man gave him an almost imperceptible nod. Together, they headed back to Severus' office, only this time Severus struggled a bit more with his leg. His initial adrenaline must have worn off. The man only spoke again when the door fell shut behind them once more.

"Let's move into my quarters," Severus said softly. Without waiting for a reply, he opened the passageway and gestured for Harry to step through.

Harry decided that it would be best to obey at this point. As long as Severus was willing to listen and not storm off, he wouldn't do anything to set him off again. He sat down on the couch and Severus walked over to his fireplace. He threw in some floo powder and called out for McGonagall's quarters. Immediately, the transfiguration professor answered the call.

"Severus?" she asked. "Goodness, you look dreadful."

"I'm aware," Severus growled. "Minerva, is Ms Granger present in the tower at the moment?"

There was a short moment of silence before McGonagall replied. "Yes, she is," she replied suspiciously. "Did Mr Potter need to see her?"

"Not at all," Severus replied. "Please urge her to stay in the tower and ask her to not accept any of Umbridge's personal invitations in the future."

Harry couldn't express into words just how much he appreciated that. Severus had, of course, seen that first memory of Harry's and knew what he was particularly worried about. Just the fact that he was trying to alleviate that worry as well as keep Hermione safe meant the world to him.

"Since you asked so nicely, I will but honestly, Severus, I think she would be smarter than that," McGonagall said.

"Yes, I expect the same," Severus said matter-of-factly. "That was all, Minerva, thank you."

"Severus, is something wrong?" Minerva asked.

"Yes but I will handle it," Severus replied, his voice tinged with the residue of his anger. "Good night, Minerva."

"Good night," McGonagall said right before Severus ended the call.

He then limped a few paces and all but collapsed into his chair. He was sweating a bit and looked a tad paler than Harry would have liked but his obsidian eyes seemed to pierce through Harry's soul. Several minutes of silence went by and Harry started to squirm. He never liked being put on the spot and this situation was no different.

"Say what you want to say already," Harry urged.

"I truthfully don't know where to even start," Severus said. There was a sad timbre to his voice that Harry was already feeling guilty about. The way the man kept subconsciously rubbing his leg didn't help with that either.

"At the beginning," Harry suggested with a weak smile.

Severus sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "First things first then," he said. "But I wish for you to be entirely truthful with me."

"Of course," Harry replied. At this point, Severus knew about everything anyway. There was nothing left to keep from him. There would be no point in keeping more secrets.

"I mean it, Harry," Severus urged. "I don't know if I –" he broke off, clearing his throat before refocusing his gaze on Harry. "Are you still hurt in any way at this time?"

"No," Harry said truthfully.

Severus regarded Harry one long moment as if to verify the truth of that statement and finally sighed, allowing his eyes to fall shut in relief for a few mere seconds. "Why didn't you tell me?" he then asked.

"I was… worried about you," Harry replied softly. He looked down and fiddled nervously with the hem of his robe. "You were already dealing with so much. I thought that this was one thing that could stay on my own plate."

"_Worried about me," _ Severus repeated bitterly. "You're the one who was being flogged and tortured but you were worried about me?."

"It wasn't that bad," Harry said, knowing full well that that was a lie.

"You deemed it bad enough when Umbridge alluded to shifting her focus," Severus pointed out. "Do you truly think yourself capable of withstanding pain that much more than anyone else?"

"I'm used to it," Harry replied.

Severus scoffed. "No," he said. "One does not get used to it. Ever."

Harry knew very well that that was true. But he didn't want to admit it.

"Why don't you want me to do something about this?" Severus then asked. "You can't possibly believe me incapable of dealing with the likes of her."

"She's headmaster of the school now," Harry replied glumly. "She could sack you at any given moment."

"She wouldn't be in charge much longer after this gets out," Severus said angrily.

"Say that you're right," Harry replied. "Say that you expose her. The minister will not reinstate Dumbledore. He will just appoint another one of his lackeys and you will likely not be welcomed back. Tell me. What will Voldemort do when he finds out about that?"

"I admit that you make some valid points," Severus said, clearly still upset. "But I'd still very much like to-"

"I don't want you to take that chance!" Harry exclaimed. "If you'd be gone too, I don't know what I'd do." Nervously, he clenched his fist around his knee.

"Harry," Severus sighed. "While I appreciate your concern, I can't just let this pass." He leaned back in his chair and stared into the fire. "But I agree with your assessment that a confrontation might not be for the best right now. Even if I wish I could unleash upon her every bit of pain she ever caused." Severus gritted his teeth in anger as the only sign of his current predicament.

"Very well," he said. "Mr Potter. I'm assigning a detention to you every day for the rest of the year for your blatant disrespect in the Great Hall this morning and the antagonising of a member of the inquisitorial squad."

Harry was completely flabbergasted. "Wha-"

"And if your friends misbehave as well, I might have to assign them the same," Severus continued. "We shall see if it becomes necessary."

Harry swallowed thickly as he tried to choke out a reply. In the end, he simply nodded.

Severus sighed and made a move as if to put a hand on Harry's shoulder but seemed to decide against it in the end. Harry could tell that the man really needed Pomfrey and soon. "I wish I had known sooner, Harry," he said again. "But I will do my best to see to it that this banshee gets what's coming to her. You have my word."

"Thank you," Harry said sincerely.

"Yes, well, one of us needs to look out for you," Severus said harshly but the softness in his eyes took the edge off.

Harry huffed a bit. "That's rich, coming from you," he said. "I think it's time to call in Madame Pomfrey again."

Severus growled but, for once, didn't protest. "Very well," he acquiesced. "I suppose I should lead by example."

Harry smiled and went to floo Pomphrey, all the while wondering how they had come so far. He hadn't wanted to tell Severus about this whole Umbridge-situation but he was so glad that he finally did. And while they couldn't act just yet, at least Harry knew for sure that he had Severus on his side. This way, he could get through whatever fate decided to throw at him. At least, that was what he believed at that moment. If only that belief could last.

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_Please please please, if there ever was a chapter to review, this would be it. My BBB or 'Big Bad Beta' as he proclaimed himself after this chapter, would be most grateful as well._  
_Thanks!_


	42. Chapter 42

_Thank you all for reviewing so massively! You've made my frustrations with the previous chapter totally worth it. You guys rock._

_Another big thank you to my beta Pagemaster4TW without whom I would probably still be struggling to finish this chapter. It was one of those chapters, you know, that just doesn't want to be written. But I got through it and I hope you'll appreciate the result._

* * *

**Chapter 42**

While Pomfrey tended to a very grumpy Severus, Harry couldn't help but go over the things that had happened in his mind. And the outcome of said experience. He smiled a bit when the realisation hit him fully for the first time. Severus now knew everything there was to know about Harry. And the man had been about to go to war for him. No adult had ever been on his side as much as Severus was. Not even Dumbledore. He glanced up to look at Severus' closed bedroom door from which he could hear angry exclamations and chastising orders.

_Detention for the rest of the year, huh? I can live with that._

The door opened and Pomfrey stepped out. She wore a very stern expression as she called back into the room. "So help me, Severus, if you leave this bed before tomorrow evening, I will have no choice but to strap you in position."

Harry snorted at the unexpected innuendo.

Severus replied something but Harry couldn't understand it. Pomfrey scoffed and walked over to Harry. "And as for _you_ –"

"I didn't do anything!" Harry said defensively."

"Well, that would be a first, wouldn't it?" Pomfrey said but then her face softened. "Listen, Mr Potter, I realise that Severus is not exactly your responsibility but you are here for most of the day. I would appreciate it if you could keep an eye on him and make sure that he says in bed."

"I do not require to be watched!" Severus shouted from inside his bedroom.

"I could always take you to the hospital wing, Severus," Pomfrey chided. That effectively shut him up and Harry couldn't help but chuckle.

"I'll make sure he follows your orders, Madame Pomfrey," Harry said.

"Thank you," Pomfrey said. "And if he gets out for anything other than using the loo, contact me immediately."

"I will," Harry said. He had been in the hospital wing often enough to know that Pomfrey's orders were to be obeyed, no matter what.

"Behave yourself, Severus!" Pomfrey called out and then she used the floo to get back to the hospital wing.

Harry chuckled again and walked into Severus' bedroom as soon as Pomfrey was gone.

"Are you above knocking now?" Severus asked, arching that one eyebrow.

"I think we're way past that, don't you?" Harry replied. He looked around and found a chair to sit in.

Severus sighed but nodded his head once in acquiescence. It wasn't much but his agreement made Harry feel warm inside.

"We need to talk," Severus then said, righting himself in the bed. It was obvious that he didn't feel comfortable in such a vulnerable position, especially when his leg was the only thing that was hurting but Harry was not about to show him mercy. He had ignored Pomfrey's orders before and it had only caused him more suffering.

"Talk?" Harry repeated. What more could there possibly be to talk about?

Severus regarded him carefully. "Surely, you do not think this is all said and done now, do you?"

"No," Harry agreed. "But we can't do anything right now, I think. And Malfoy agrees with me."

Severus frowned. "You told Mr Malfoy about Umbridge's treatment of you?"

"Oh, Merlin, no!" Harry denied. "Why would I do that? But the truth is that every student wants her gone, anyway. She's horrible!"

"And what did Mr Malfoy have to say about her, I wonder," Severus urged. "Do enlighten me."

And Harry did. He explained how Malfoy thought that Fudge was behind her behaviour and that their main goal was to put Harry in Azkaban while Dumbledore was away and unable to prevent it.

"This is all speculation, though," Harry said. "But I thought it sounded kind of reasonable."

"Mr Malfoy does have a good head on his shoulders," Severus replied softly. "I find no immediate flaws in this theory other than Fudge's number of brain cells."

Harry chuckled. "Yeah, that seems about right."

"If his assumptions are correct, that would mean that you're targeted by the ministry as well, this time," Severus continued.

The worried look in Severus' eyes made Harry very happy. But the truth was that he had always been a target. Each and every year again.

_Hogwarts wouldn't be Hogwarts without some good old plot against me._

"It should be," Severus replied harshly to Harry's unspoken thoughts. Harry thought that it was remarkable just how good they were becoming at communicating. Even without actually speaking. "It is absurd for us to continuously be found unable to protect our students. Even if the student in question is Harry Potter." The man ran a hand through his hair and adopted a serious expression. "Perhaps we should… orchestrate an accident of sorts."

Harry frowned. "For Umbridge?"

"No," Severus replied. "For you. If you are recovering elsewhere, the ministry will have no means or reason to imprison you. I imagine that headquarters would make a fine temporary hideout."

"Forget it," Harry said. "There's no way that I'm leaving while everyone I know is in danger of being taken."

"There's nothing you can do at the moment, you foolish boy," Severus said sharply. "Besides, I imagined that you would be thrilled to spend some more time with that godfather of yours."

Harry sighed and slouched in his seat. "Leave Hogwarts?" he repeated. "I just – how would I even go about doing that? Do you want me to fall off my broom or something?"

"That wouldn't be bad," Severus said. "The way you fly, it's a miracle that you've only sustained minor injuries so far."

Harry scoffed. "Missing all of the bones in my arm counts as minor to you?" he asked.

Severus grinned. "That had more to do with the incompetence of a certain Ravenclaw than the result of your flying, did it not?"

"That's a fair point," Harry admitted. "But… I'm not going anywhere, Severus."

Severus growled. "Harry –"

"Just hear me out, okay?" Harry interrupted. "It's safe to say that Voldemort is doing all of this, at least in part, to get to me. That's always been the case before and why else would he intrude into my mind so often?"

Severus nodded. "That, we can agree on," he said. "But I don't see what that has to do with any of this."

"He's going to try to get to me no matter where I am," Harry sighed.

"All the more reason for you to get to headquarters," Severus growled.

"Bellatrix already got in there once. Are you sure that she won't be able to do it again?" Harry asked coldly. "Especially once Voldemort realises that I'm no longer at Hogwarts?"

Severus glared at Harry but it hardly fazed him. "So you'd rather stay here?" he asked evenly.

"Hogwarts is a safe place as well," Harry told him.

"Not with Albus gone," Snape replied vehemently, gritting his teeth when he accidentally jostled his injury.

Harry shook his head. "You're wrong," he said easily. "Dumbledore's not the only wizard on my side here. I know that a lot of people don't trust me anymore but I have a lot of allies as well. Including some new ones from _your_ house."

"I would be very careful about trusting Mr Malfoy," Severus said darkly.

"It's called a leap of faith, Severus," Harry said. "And I know you want me to psychoanalyze everyone that I let come close to me but that's just not who I am. And that's not even the point!" Harry sighed when he realised that he had been side-tracked. "Just listen to me for a second, alright? These people that are disappearing… it's partially because of me – no, don't even bother denying it," Harry added when Severus opened his mouth to protest. "If I had gone to Beauxbatons, _that_ school would probably face this issue now instead of Hogwarts. I am not running away from Fudge, Voldemort or anyone. I'm going to find these people and bring them back safely."

Severus looked at him as if he had never seen him before. "You're a child," he said.

"I am," Harry agreed. "But I'm not alone. And I've faced much worse before. I will take Voldemort on as often as it takes. Until I no longer need to."

Severus scoffed. "I suppose it was foolish of me to suggest that you, a Gryffindor, go into hiding."

Harry smiled as he leaned back in his chair. "It was foolish to ask me, Harry Potter, to go into hiding," he corrected. "I'm not leaving anyone behind. Not now. Not ever."

Snape regarded him with that piercing look of his but Harry remained calm under his scrutinising gaze.

"You have… grown," the man remarked.

Harry tilted his head slightly. "Grown?" he repeated.

Severus smirked and shook his head. "Never mind," he said. "It is nothing. Now, have you decided on how you will entertain me today?"

Harry smiled devilishly. "Are you up for a game of exploding snap?" he asked.

Severus sighed. "I suppose."

* * *

While Harry had gladly spent some quality time with Severus while the man was recovering, said time was only borrowed as became clear very quickly. Severus didn't even take the time to eat before getting back to it. After his mandatory bed rest, Pomfrey had come along and declared him healthy enough to stalk the halls once more – in those exact words – and Severus had taken that opportunity to immediately shut himself into his personal potions lab to continue experimenting with what time remained of that day.

Harry supposed that the man was running out of time and he hated to think about what would happen to him when Voldemort finally decided that his efforts had been inadequate. But worrying about that would get him nowhere. He had been holed up most of the day with his potions professor and had even missed some of his classes because of it. It was time to get out of the dungeons and meet up with his friends again.

As expected, they sat in the Great Hall, waiting for him. Harry was just glad to see that Hermione looked as happy and healthy as always. Wasting no time, he sat next to her, grabbing some bread before even saying hello.

"Harry!" Ron greeted.

"Ah, Harry!" Hermione said. "Good to see you."

Harry swallowed the piece of bread he had already been chewing. "You too," he reciprocated the greeting. "What did I miss?"

"Nothing just yet, mate," Ron said. "What about _you_, though? Are you alright?"

"Me?" Harry asked, puzzled for a moment.

"Well, where were you all day?" Hermione asked. "You missed your classes!"

"Oh, I was with Severus," Harry said plainly. "Someone had to look after him while he was struggling with his leg, you know?"

Hermione and Ron looked at each other, both obviously trying to suppress a smile.

"Go on," Harry urged calmly. "What's so funny?"

"Can't you even see it, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"You two are really looking out for one another now," Ron said. "Like when he found you during that last blackout of yours. I don't think I've ever seen anyone look more relieved than he did when you woke up."

"Oh," Harry said stupidly, blushing a bit. "It just kind of… grew that way, you know?"

"No need to explain, mate," Ron said. "After everything you've been through, you deserve these things."

Hermione chuckled. "It's kind of endearing, really," she said sweetly.

"Endearing?" Harry repeated. "You did _not_ just call Severus endearing."

Hermione laughed. "Oh, but I did," she said. "It's kind of… nice to see him express another persona than the one of the strict Professor."

"Oh no," Ron joked. "She's making the same kind of eyes she made at Lockhart and Lupin!"

Hermione whacked Ron on the back of the head with a book she had been holding in her lap. "Am not!" she denied. "And I didn't make eyes at Lupin either."

"Ah, but you did at Lockhart then, did you?" Ron said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"Ron!" Hermione exclaimed. "So help me, if you utter another word –"

A piece of paper suddenly appeared on Harry's plate and he frowned when he recognised the lettering that was Draco Malfoy's handwriting.

"Ooooh, how clever!" Hermione cooed. "They don't teach that charm until seventh year! And only very few people ever actually master it."

Ron scoffed. "A Patronus messenger is much cooler, I'd say."

"And a lot less subtle," Harry pointed out.

"Maybe I can get him to teach me!" Hermione said happily.

"You don't need him," Ron said grumpily. "You can teach yourself anything you want. You're good like that!"

Starting to tune out his friends' bickering, Harry carefully unfolded the single sheet of thin parchment to read Malfoy's missive.

'_Umbridge is making us patrol the seventh-floor corridor.'_

The message was short but Harry knew exactly what it meant. Umbridge was on to them and the DA could no longer take place in the Room of Requirement. He elbowed Ron in the side to snap him out of his bickering with Hermione and showed him the parchment.

"Do you think someone told on us?" Harry hissed.

Ron frowned. "I doubt it," he said. "If they knew exactly where the room was, they would just go in, wouldn't they?" Ron looked thoughtful. "She must have seen us leave from there or something."

"If someone had tattled on us, I would have known," Hermione interjected. "But since no one got hexed, I have to agree with Ron."

"So what now?" Harry asked. "Do we look for another location?"

"We have no other choice," Ron said. "If we keep going back there, we _will_ get caught."

Harry growled. This year was just getting better and better. Handling Voldemort alone was tough enough but throw Umbridge into the mix and things just got so much harder.

"I never thought I'd say this," Harry mumbled, "but at this point, I think I'd prefer Quirrellmort as a defence teacher."

Hermione choked in her drink as she tried not to laugh.

* * *

That night, Harry had gone to sleep without even seeing Severus, though the tell-tale clinking and banging in his potions lab told Harry exactly where the man was. Not wanting to bother him and just a tad fearful that he would ruin the important potion if he did, he just went to sleep that night.

The next morning, there wasn't much change. The same kind of noises came from the lab with the occasional loud oath uttered by a very upset Potions Master. Harry cautiously knocked on the door. The noises quieted down and Harry took a step back as he waited for the door to open. If he hadn't, it would have hit him in the face from the sheer force that was used.

Severus glowered at him but his usual sneers and glares didn't have much of an effect anymore. Not on Harry, at least. The Potions Master hair was in tangles. Several blotches of coloured goop stained his clothes and face and the scent of too many ingredients hung from his robes. "What?" he asked.

"Very eloquent," Harry jibed but the thunderstorm on Severus' face quickly showed him that the man was not in the mood. "Have you slept at all?" Harry asked, his concern obviously showing.

"No time," Severus growled. "Now, if that was all –"

"Come on, Severus," Harry said. "Take a rest. A few hours at least."

"The Dark Lord is growing very impatient," Severus said curtly. "I don't have a few hours."

"Well, you're not going to manage like this," Harry said, putting a bit more force into his words this time. "Look at you, you're dead on your feet. Soon, you'll blow up your own lab and then you can't experiment at all!"

"Do you mistake me for Longbottom?" Severus growled.

Harry sighed and put a hand on the man's arm. "Don't do this to yourself," he pleaded. "You've only just recovered from your leg-injury."

"Precisely why I have some catching up to do," Severus argued. He turned and made to shut the door but Harry grabbed his wrist.

"Severus Snape!" He said sternly. "Enough is enough. You _will_ put your current potion in stasis and come up for a few hours of rest or so help me, I _will_ call in Madame Pomfrey again."

Severus glared at him. "Excuse me?" he said, his tone dangerously low.

"You heard me," Harry said, careful to keep his tone stern. "Come out of there, lie down and have a bite to eat. There's plenty of time left in the afternoon."

"Harry," Severus sighed. "You don't understand."

"I understand perfectly well," Harry repeated. "Don't forget that I know the ins of Voldemort's mind better than anyone else. Now, are you going to listen to me or do I have to summon Pomfrey?"

Severus sighed. "Have it your way, Potter," he said.

Harry rolled his eyes when Severus used his last name. He'd wake up to thank him later. He watched as Severus went back down and put his cauldron in stasis. Then, he carefully came out of the room and glared at Harry for good measure.

"I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, you know," Severus said. "I've always done it before."

Harry smiled wanly. "Yeah," he said. "I used to say the same thing."

That seemed to take Severus aback a little, knocking the sneer right from his face. Finally, he grumbled and moved towards his bedroom, grumbling things under his breath to do with Gryffindors, the sorting hat and Harry Potter.

"Sleep well!" Harry called out before the door slammed shut. Severus might still be home because Pomfrey gave him an extra day to rest but Harry didn't have that luxury. And so all he could do was head out and hope that Severus wouldn't go back to work behind his back.

* * *

As it was, Severus didn't show up for lunch so Harry planned not to take too long eating his dinner so he could check if the man was alright.

"You worry too much, Harry," Hermione said when he explained his hurry. "I'm sure he knows what he's doing."

"He's scared," Harry replied. "He'll never admit it but I know he is. Hell, _I_ am scared. Who knows what Voldemort will do to him if he doesn't succeed."

"If he can't do it, he should just not go back, I think," Ron said. "I'm sure that Dumbledore can be convinced."

Harry scoffed. "Dumbledore isn't the problem. He actually _wants_ Severus to stop spying."

Hermione frowned. "Then why doesn't he?"

"I've had this conversation with him, Hermione," Harry replied. "Believe me, it did not go well. He feels that he _has_ to do this."

"Sounds like a Gryffindor outlook if you ask me," Ron pointed out.

Harry laughed. "I'll tell him you said that."

Before the trio was able to enter the Great Hall, they were met with a dispute right in front of its gates.

"But you can't do that!" Zacharias Smith exclaimed, facing none other than the toad herself.

"Mind your manners, Mr Smith," Umbridge said sternly. "I can and I very well will take every precaution necessary to keep you and your peers safe."

Zacharias opened his mouth to say something else but was shoved onto the ground by Montague and Malfoy.

"Not another word," Umbridge told him sweetly. "I only do what's best for you. Ah, Mr Potter."

Harry schooled his expression into a pleasant one, not wanting to set the woman off. "Good evening, Headmistress," he said politely.

"I've heard that Professor Snape has assigned you a detention for the rest of the year," she said, clearly not pleased by this.

"I'm afraid so," Harry replied evenly. "He seemed to think that I needed to be disciplined."

Umbridge scoffed. "Yes, well, I have to agree with him on that, I suppose," she said. "It's about time that someone other than myself saw what kind of wretched boy you were becoming."

"I'm sure he would be glad to hear you say that, ma'am," Harry said politely. Umbridge narrowed her eyes at him and Harry did his best to maintain his neutral expression. She would be far too pleased if he showed her any sign of weakness, even if the woman did give him the creeps.

Then, she turned on her heel and walked into the Great Hall with Montague and Malfoy following right behind her. Malfoy glanced at Harry but didn't give anything away in his expression. As well he shouldn't.

When the Slytherin group was out of sight, Harry extended his hand towards Zacharias. The Hufflepuff rolled his eyes and got up by himself.

"What was that all about?" Ron asked him.

"Why don't you ask Potter?" Zacharias replied venomously. "I'm sure that he's had something to do with this."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Harry said, trying not to let the boy rile him up.

"She's cancelling Quidditch," Zacharias spat. "Says it's safer if that's not a load of crap. Well screw her, I say. I have a practice scheduled tomorrow and I'm going flying whether she likes it or not."

"I don't know if you should," Harry said carefully. "Umbridge is wrong about many things but I think that she may be right about this."

"Oh sure, side with her why don't you?" Zacharias snarled. "Well don't you worry your famous little head, Potter. I'll be sure to bring a friend so there's no need to target me."

Ron sighed in exasperation. "_This_ again?" he exclaimed. "How many times do we have to tell you that Harry has nothing to do with these disappearances?"

"Oh yeah?" Zacharias said. "From what I heard, he was one of the last people in the library before Leanne was taken."

"And so were we!" Ron now yelled, his face already tinging red. "He didn't do anything!"

"Ron," Harry said softly. "Let it go."

"Keep your friends close while you can, Potter," Zacharias said. "It won't be long before they see the truth as well."

"Bugger off, Smith," Harry said calmly. This earned him a sneer but finally, the Hufflepuff walked away and towards his house table.

"It's clear why that one isn't in Ravenclaw, innit?" Ron scoffed. "Anyone with half a brain would see the truth."

"He's just scared," Harry said, putting a hand on Ron's shoulder in the hopes of calming his friend down. "He'll come around eventually. People always do."

"Well, when that time comes, I reserve the right to tell him 'I told you so,'" Ron growled.

"I'll make note of it," Hermione laughed.

During dinner, Umbridge did announce the new ban on Quidditch, saying that it was no longer safe for students to be outside of the castle for any reason other than classes. And, to be entirely honest, Harry kind of agreed with her on that. He refrained from voicing his opinion, though, since his own Quidditch team would likely strangle him for it. As it was, they were already booing and throwing food at one another. Sometimes, lives were more important than Quidditch. Even if Ron would never agree with it.

* * *

Severus hadn't been at dinner either and so, rather than stay and mourn the loss of Quidditch with the rest of the Gryffindors, Harry went down to the dungeons as soon as he could. As was to be expected, noise was coming from the lab again to indicate the Potions Master's presence. Harry decided to use the least intrusive manner of disturbing the man.

_Have you been able to sleep a bit?_

He waited for a moment, thinking that Severus wasn't going to bother with a reply when –

**I rested for a couple of hours as you so vehemently insisted. **

_Thank you._

Harry then settled down in the sitting room to get started on his homework. Disappearances or no, homework was still brutal and with their upcoming O.W.L.'s, even Ron had started buckling down and studying twice as hard as he ever did. That still wasn't good enough for Hermione but no one was likely to follow _her_ crazy example.

He had written eight inches of his charms' essay when the door to the lab opened. Severus walked out very calmly, closed the door with a soft click and walked over to his private stash of liquors. He stood there for a couple of seconds before lifting a bottle of whiskey and loudly smashing it on the floor. It was quickly followed by an array of coloured bottles as well as the expensive-looking glasses he owned. All of them shattered at Severus' feet when they collided with the unforgiving stone. When there was nothing left to smash, Severus leaned forward on the now empty table, breathing heavily as if he had just run for several miles.

"I'm sure that _drinking_ those would have had a much more calming effect," Harry noted steadily.

Severus whirled around and shot Harry such a devastated look that he knew that the man hadn't realised he was there.

"Harry," Severus said with trepidation. "I apologise. I – I didn't know that you were back already."

Harry closed his book and smiled softly at Severus. "It's not going well, I take it?" he said.

Severus scoffed. "That's the understatement of the century." With a wave of his wand, he banished the mess he made leaving no evidence of his outburst. He then sank into his usual chair and dropped his head in his hands. It was telling how difficult the man had it to show such vulnerability in front of Harry. On the other hand, they had been through a lot together and perhaps it was a sign of trust rather than one of weakness.

"What are you having difficulty with?" Harry asked. Though he knew full well that he would likely not be of help, he also knew that it sometimes helped to talk about these matters. It could give one a whole different outlook on things.

Severus sighed heavily but he replied. "There are three main effects this potion needs to have," he said. Harry nodded. He remembered that but he'd rather let the man talk. "I managed to brew a potion that produces the first two effects namely the providing of nutrients as well as keeping the drinker awake for a long period of time. That, by itself, was hard enough as it is but the third effect the Dark Lord desires, which is really two more effects if you think about it, won't work."

"What is that effect again?" Harry asked tentatively.

"The strengthening of the drinker's resolve as well as the numbing of their emotions."

_It sounds like he needs a muggle drug._

Severus' head shot up and he fixed Harry with such an intense look that Harry wanted to scurry away. "Say that again," he said.

"I didn't say anything," Harry protested. He hadn't meant to convey that thought to Severus at all. Sometimes, this link was a bit annoying.

"I heard it nonetheless," Severus insisted. "What did you mean?"

"Well, I'm just saying that some muggle drugs have many of the effects you listed. Okay, not the nutrient bit but a loss of appetite might fill in just as well."

Severus almost seemed elated and eager to hear more. "And what exactly did you have in mind?" he asked.

"Er… don't ask me how I know this," Harry started, not wanting to explain too much about his cousin's past. "But I think crack is just what you need."

"Crack?" Severus repeated.

"Crack cocaine," Harry clarified. "It should increase your confidence; diminish your appetite and make you indifferent to pain and fatigue."

Severus' eyes narrowed for a moment. "Did you ever partake in the usage of this… crack?" he asked.

"No, never!" Harry was quick to deny. He hadn't. "Not me."

Severus seemed to believe him and moved on. "Very interesting," he said. "If these effects present themselves as you say they will, it could really prove to be invaluable to this potion."

Harry smiled a bit. "So… I managed to help?"

"Most likely so," Severus replied, already pulling several books from his shelf. "I will need to do some research on the subject, of course, but if I can get this to work…"

"Do you have any idea who it would be used on, though?" Harry asked. "Because it's addictive."

"I believe that it will be a potion to be drunk by the Death Eaters," Severus replied. "For what purpose, I'm not certain, but the required effects are too beneficial to be used on anyone else."

"Good," Harry said. "If _they_ become addicted to this stuff, that could really give us an edge, you know?"

But Severus was already in a world of his own, carefully perusing the first book of many that he had now stacked on the table.

Happy that he had been able to help, Harry reopened his book of Charms and continued working on his essay, happy with the idea that they might soon have another edge on Voldemort. Especially if the man would, perhaps, drink the potion as well.

It was not until an hour later that Severus jumped up from his seat with the largest grin on his face that Harry had ever witnessed from him.

"This will actually work," Severus told Harry, his voice thick with excitement. "All I will need to do is alter its base form and it should work fantastically in this potion. I'll just need to procure some."

Harry chuckled. "Talk to Dudley," he said. "He'll be able to tell you who to buy it from."

"Your cousin?" Severus asked.

Harry nodded. "Yeah," he said. "I'm sure he'd be happy to help. Though I don't know about Petunia and Vernon."

Severus smirked nastily. "Oh, I'm eager to have another word with those two anyway."

Harry frowned. "Don't kill them," he said calmly.

"I wouldn't dream of it," Severus replied icily. "Do you think they'll be done with dinner yet?"

Harry checked the time with a casual 'Tempus'. "Not quite yet," he said. "They'll be having seconds now."

"Very good," Severus said. He grabbed his cloak and threw in some floo powder in the hearth. "Arabella Figg's house!" he exclaimed clearly and with a woosh, he was gone.

Harry shook his head and rolled up his finished essay, walking into the kitchen for some tea. _Camomile sounds good_, he thought as he gleefully considered Severus walking up to number 4 Privet Drive.

* * *

_Too bad that this story is written from Harry's perspective, isn't it? *chuckles* Well, please let me know what you thought and I'll see you all later. I'm not sure about a Tuesday update just yet since I'm still behind on my writing and the hot weather is rendering me too lazy to do anything at all. (Forgive me!)_


	43. Chapter 43

_Thank you all for your patience and your reviews. Unfortunately, I will not be adding a Snape pov but because you all want to know what went on at the Dursleys, I'll add a Legilimency session just for that in the next chapter._

* * *

**Chapter 43**

It was roughly two hours later that Severus came back home. Harry blinked when he saw the large bag the man was carrying.

"Er… Severus," Harry said carefully when he caught sight of Severus' face. "You have a bit of blood on your cheek. Right there."

Severus rubbed his cheek and looked at his fingers. "Oh," he said calmly. "How unsightly."

"What did you do?" Harry asked, sort of fearing the answer.

"Nothing irreversible, I assure you," Severus said.

"You're not going to tell me anything, are you?" Harry asked.

Severus shook his head. "Not a chance," he said. "Not now, at least. But the good news is that I managed to acquire the substance you recommended to me."

"Was Dudley of use?" Harry asked, hoping that his cousin had not been hurt in any way.

"Your cousin appears to be the only one in that household with a modicum of a brain," Severus said as he started unpacking his haul. "He pointed me in the right direction, much to the dislike of his repulsive parents."

"Is he alright?" Harry asked pointedly.

"I didn't harm _him_ in any way, if that is what you're asking," Severus replied. "And you would do well to leave it at that."

Deciding that it would be better to listen to the man at this point, Harry refocused his attention to the spectacularly large amount of drugs now splayed out on the table. "How did you even have enough money for all of this?" Harry blurted out.

"My financial capabilities aside, I did not pay for these, per se," Severus said. He was already portioning the illegal and expensive stuff with skilled and precise movements. "I merely confiscated it which should serve to keep the muggle children safe for another night or two."

Harry snorted. "That should have gone well."

"As well as could be expected," Severus replied. "Harry, I really need to thank you."

"Thank me?" Harry repeated. "Why?"

"Your suggestion might prove to be the solution to this potion," Severus said, stilling his movements for a moment to look Harry in the eye. "And I confess that I would have never thought of this, myself."

"Oh, Well I'm glad I could help," Harry said. "You _have_ been looking a bit stressed lately."

Severus smiled thinly. "My skills must be deteriorating for you to pick up on that."

"Nah," Harry replied easily. "I just got to know you better, that's all."

Severus regarded him for a moment and then motioned vaguely towards Harry. "Wait here for a moment, if you will."

Curious, Harry folded his legs underneath himself and watched how Severus went into his bedroom only to re-emerge a moment later with a very familiar-looking item.

"My invisibility cloak!" Harry exclaimed in poorly—hidden surprise.

Severus handed it to him before sitting down. Harry folded the smooth fabric over his lap, caressing it lovingly. He had missed that cloak but hadn't dared to ask Severus about it anymore.

"I believe the time has finally come for me to return that to you," Severus said. "And while I would normally ask you to not use it to break the rules, I feel that this year we will all need to break some rules for us to get through it."

Harry was still gawking at his cloak. "Are you sure?" he asked.

"You are ready," Severus replied confidently. "Over the course of the last months, I have seen you break through those walls you have built around yourself, in more ways than one. While I am certain that there are still hurdles for you to take, I am now confident that you'll be able to jump them. Especially with my help."

Harry swallowed thickly. "Thank you," he said softly.

"You are very welcome."

A moment of silence washed over the two wizards as they sat comfortably in each other's company. Harry allowed Severus' words to echo in his mind and couldn't help but wonder.

"What do you mean, in more ways than one?" he asked.

Severus leaned back and folded his hands in his lap, contemplating his response. "I refer, of course, to your Occlumency shields."

Harry frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Surely, you've noticed the changes," Severus pointed out. "They've been gradual enough, for certain, but I know that you're not oblivious to what has been happening in your own mind."

Harry thought he knew what Severus meant. After all, where his shields had been made out of solid ice at first, they were now starting to melt. It was a change he had been a bit worried about. After all, he felt a lot less solid this way but he couldn't revert these changes no matter how hard he tried. As Severus had said, they had come gradually and incorporated themselves in Harry's shields before he had even realised the change.

"You're talking about the ice," Harry said.

Severus nodded. "In part," he agreed. "Harry, I believe that you realise the rarity of a shield created out of ice entirely. Some wizards might actually argue that it's not an element at all."

Harry placed the invisibility cloak next to him in a neat pile before leaning more heavily on the armrest of the couch. "But if it isn't an element, I shouldn't have been able to use it as a shield, should I?"

"Ice by itself isn't an element," Severus tried again. "But water is."

"Water?" Harry repeated.

"I have only my own theories to work with," Severus said. "Especially since an Occlumens with shields crafted from ice is quite rare. But I believe that water is your innate element and always has been. But your inner state of mind, as well as your less than ideal past, have frozen that water into the glaciers you chose to use as a shield. That would explain why your inner mind contains a quiet lake hidden behind your walls. It's your _actual_ element waiting to be used."

Harry shook his head. "But isn't water the element attributed to Slytherin? Gryffindors are supposed to be fire."

Severus chuckled softly. "It is true that the founders included one of the four original elements in their house symbols but that doesn't mean that you can't use anything else. People are more than one house. You've said it yourself. You were almost sorted into Slytherin."

"I suppose that's true," Harry conceded. "But then why is the ice melting now?"

"Ah, that is the question, isn't it?" Severus said in a tone of voice that reminded Harry of Dumbledore. "What do _you_ think happened, Harry?"

Harry frowned as he thought that over. So many things had changed since that first Occlumency lesson. And not all of them for the better. But if he thought about the most positive change in his life, the answer came to him clearly. Severus had taken him in. Had given him a place to call his own, even if it was temporary. He had talked Harry through the difficulties in his life and had stood by his side every step of the way. And that had changed him.

"I'm… happier now," Harry said, feeling stupid for how plain those words sounded.

"Exactly," Severus said. "Though it pains me to say this, you were in a very dark place when you first came to stay here. That darkness had a direct effect on your Occlumency walls. Not only by freezing the waterfalls that I've seen break through lately, but also by removing the light above that lake."

"That's crazy," Harry let inadvertently slip.

"The mind is a powerful thing," Severus replied. "And I am very glad to see that it's healing. So much so, in fact, that I'm willing to allow you to sleep in Gryffindor tower again."

Harry's eyes widened in shock.

_So he's finally kicking me out._

"Harry, no!" Severus said sternly. "I am _not_ kicking you out. Don't think I am even for one second."

"But then why –"

"As much as I enjoy your company, surely you can understand that you need to be with your fellow Gryffindors. Even if they don't exactly instil the best kind of behaviour in you. This is what is best for you."

Harry closed his eyes for a moment and willed himself to be rational about this. This was never supposed to be a permanent deal and he knew it. And while Severus had been fantastic for the duration of Harry's stay, he was only trying to do what he thought was right. Staying isolated from his housemates was not good, and he knew it. The fact that Severus was allowing him to go back, meant that the man trusted him.

"You're right, of course," Harry admitted, clearly surprising Severus in the process. "At least we'll still have my daily detentions to catch up on things."

"Yes," Severus agreed. "We will. I'm glad that you understand the situation."

"Can I –" Harry chuckled uncomfortably. "Can I stay here for one more night?"

"It's a tad late to head back to the tower," Severus replied. "So I don't see why not."

"Thanks," Harry said, smiling cheekily. "What do you say to another game of chess?"

Severus glanced at his new 'potion ingredient' before replying. "I would like that very much, Harry."

* * *

The following day, Harry, Ron and Hermione were walking the corridors on the way to Herbology after lunch. Hermione already had a book in hand to look up some of the plants they were supposed to discuss that day.

"So you can finally come back to the tower," Ron said. "You have no idea how happy I am to hear that. Don't get me wrong, Neville is an alright bloke and all but Dean and Seamus make me want to pull my hair out!"

Harry chuckled. "I'm sure they're not so bad."

"Oh, sure of that, are you?" Ron replied. "Let's see how you react while they bicker about everything that's going on. On second thought, Seamus might just keep his mouth shut around you."

"Let me guess," Harry sighed. "He's afraid that I'll magically apparate him out of here into some dark dungeon in the woods."

"Something like that," Ron agreed. "It's a good thing that I still had Neville, to tell you the truth. We basically keep each other from clocking those idiots."

"Boys," Hermione scoffed under her breath.

"We needed to defend Harry's honour!" Ron exclaimed. He winked at Harry cheekily. "Don't worry about it too much, mate. Every Gryffindor worth its salt has your back."

"I hate to agree with Ron but he's right, Harry," Hermione said. "Don't let those idiots get to you. They're not worth it."

Not for the first time, Harry was grateful to have friends like Ron and Hermione. They pulled him through every situation he encountered and this year was no different. "Thanks, guys," he said. "What would I do without you?"

Ron snaked his arm around Harry's neck to force him into a playful grip. "You'd probably still get lost around the castle," he jibed, roughing Harry's hair up even more.

"Let me go!" Harry laughed.

Then, Hermione stopped walking so suddenly that Harry and Ron bumped into her. They almost knocked her over but Ron grabbed her arm in time.

"Watch it, 'Mione," Ron chided. But Hermione was still not paying attention. Her eyes were affixed on the Quidditch pitch.

"What do you think is going on over there?" she asked, pointing at three shapes that were walking along the edge of the pitch.

Harry narrowed his eyes to try and get a better view of what Hermione had spotted when he recognised a certain Defence teacher clad in pink. Accompanying her were Sprout and Hooch.

"Oh no," Harry groaned. "It can't be."

"Do you think it's Smith?" Ron suggested. "He did say that he was going to practice quidditch, even though he's not supposed to."

"Maybe nothing happened," Hermione said. "Maybe he just got caught, that's all."

"I don't know, Hermione," Harry said glumly. "They wouldn't involve his Head of House for a simple transgression like that. And I don't see him anywhere."

With a firm snap, Hermione shut her book and resumed her walk towards the greenhouses. "Come on," she said. "We're going to be late."

Harry didn't see the point of going any more with Sprout tending to other business but he supposed that Hermione was looking for a distraction.

* * *

That evening, after dinner, Harry sat in Severus' office, pretending to make his homework under the ruse of detention but even with his books open and his quill inked, he couldn't help but be distracted.

"Two of them again, Severus," Harry pointed out.

"I'm well aware," Severus replied evenly.

"Smith told us that he was going to bring a friend with him," Harry sighed. "It was stupid of him to think that that would protect him."

"He and Mr Finch-Fletchley both were aware of the risk, Harry," Severus then said. "It was an imbecilic risk to take but they did so nonetheless."

"Were their brooms gone as well?" Harry asked.

"They were," Severus confirmed. "As well as the Quidditch equipment."

"What?" Harry asked. "Why would anyone take that?"

Severus sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He put down his own quill with which he had been grading first-year essays, finally losing the battle to stay focused. "I imagine that the equipment was not taken on purpose," he told Harry. "But rather that it was a side-effect of the transportation method that was used."

"Well, if they were taken on the pitch, that would definitely rule out floo travel," Harry said, biting the nail on his index finger. "You don't think they just flew out of here, do you? Under the influence of the Imperius curse or anything?"

"I cannot completely rule out that possibility, of course," Severus said. "But such a method could definitely not have been employed for many of the other disappearances. Right now, a portkey would be more likely if it did not have certain restrictions."

"Like what?" Harry asked.

Severus narrowed his eyes at him. "For how many years now have you known that you're a wizard?" he asked.

Harry rolled his eyes at him. "Alright, so I didn't read as much as I could have. I've been kind of busy each year if it had escaped your notice."

Severus smirked. "That certainly didn't stop Ms Granger."

"Yeah, but Hermione's brilliant," Harry sighed. "Can you just tell me already?"

Severus leaned back in his chair and aimed his gaze at the ceiling as if he was thinking something over. "For a Portkey to work on Hogwarts grounds it would need to be sanctioned by either the Headmaster or the Ministry of Magic."

"Really?" Harry asked. "Well, don't you think that might be an option then?"

"Hmm," Severus hummed. "While I believe Fudge to try and sully your name and even imprison you, I highly doubt that he would go after children to further that goal."

"Other than me, you mean," Harry pointed out.

"Yes, Harry, other than you," Severus acquiesced.

"Well, we can rule out Dumbledore," Harry sighed. "What does that leave? Apparition?"

Severus made an ugly face. "You can't –"

"Apparate out of Hogwarts, I know," Harry interrupted. "But how is that decided?"

"By the headmaster alone," Severus informed him. "Thus that method is even less plausible than the former."

Harry picked up his quill in defeat. "Back to the drawing board, it is," he said.

"I've told you this before, Harry," Severus then said. "This does not have to be your battle."

"I can't just sit by and do nothing," Harry said plainly. "So thanks for the concern but this is just how things are."

"I knew that it was futile to mention," Severus replied. His voice didn't betray any disapproval for which Harry was grateful. He knew that the man couldn't deny Harry's Gryffindor outlook as much as he could his own Slytherin one. And Harry expected that the man had actually started to respect that.

"Are you looking forward to sleeping in the tower again?" Severus asked, changing the subject entirely. For a brief moment, Harry wondered just when the disappearances had become so common that people didn't even spend all that long talking about them anymore but swiftly brushed those thoughts off.

"Sort of," he replied honestly.

"Sort of?" Severus parroted. "Explain, if you will."

"Apparently, Dean and Seamus still think that I'm behind all this," Harry said, a hint of anger tinging his voice. "It's a good thing that Ron is in there. Neville has been speaking out for me as well, it seems."

Severus nodded sagely. "That is to be expected," he said.

"Oh?" Harry asked. "I didn't think you were one to expect _anything_ from Neville."

"It is to be expected that he would deny your involvement since he's had first-hand experience with this situation," Severus said plainly. "A few weeks ago, his mother and father disappeared." He snapped his fingers. "Just like that. Longbottom knows that you could not have done _that_ so why would he suspect your involvement in Hogwarts?"

"Hold on!" Harry exclaimed. "His parents disappeared? I honestly thought they'd… died."

Severus sighed softly. "I fear that I may have said too much," he said. "The story of Alice and Frank Longbottom isn't mine to tell, Harry. Suffice to say that the boy does live with his grandmother for very good reasons. Nevertheless, his parents are alive and have disappeared right from under the noses of what should have been able people."

"This is ridiculous," Harry growled. "How is the ministry not doing anything about this?"

"Fudge is doing everything in his power to keep his position," Severus said plainly. "He's covering up the majority of these disappearances and using his contacts left and right to keep the affected family members quiet. Folly, of course. I don't know how long he imagines to be able to keep up this charade but for now, that's what he's doing."

"Poor Neville," Harry sighed. He couldn't imagine what the boy must be going through right now. If he had been in the tower more often, maybe he would have picked up on something being amiss. Or maybe, Neville was as good at hiding things as Harry was.

"I'm curious," Severus said after a moment went by. "I didn't pick up on you losing consciousness today."

Harry frowned. "You're right," he said. "Someone disappeared but Voldemort didn't invade my mind this time."

"You didn't sense anything?" Severus insisted. "Not even a twinge in your scar?"

"Not a thing," Harry replied, baffled by this realisation himself. "It's already happened a couple of times but only when I was asleep or something. Do you think that means that this disappearance had nothing to do with the others?"

"I doubt that," Severus said, though the man seemed pleased. "The truth, I believe, is that you might have scared the Dark Lord off."

Harry scoffed. "Scared Voldemort?" he asked. "With what?"

Severus narrowed his eyes. "Think about this, Harry. The last time he was in your mind, you managed to Legilimise him and even look into a memory that he had not intended for you to see. I think it made him realise just how vulnerable he is in your mind."

"Wouldn't he be able to protect himself better now that he knows that I know?" Harry asked.

Severus shook his head. "I confess that I don't know a great deal about this unique link between you and the Dark Lord. But it would seem that the distance combined with the efforts to keep your mind detached from your body leave him exceedingly vulnerable. Perhaps – and it is my hope that I'm right about this – he will no longer be willing to take the risk."

"Hurray for me," Harry said, less enthusiastically than he should have.

"Aren't you pleased?" Severus asked.

"I am," Harry said. "But it just feels that as soon as I have a weapon to fight him with, the opportunity to do so is ripped away from me."

"We have time to hone that weapon," Severus said. "As opposed to Occlumency, for Legilimency you seem to have a certain natural… talent, I might as well concede. Now that my mind needs no longer be focused on my task for the Dark Lord, I may resume teaching you."

Harry nodded. "I would like that."

"Well then," Severus said. "Since we conveniently enough already have an excuse for your being here, I suggest that we pick up where we left during your next detention."

"Or we could start right now," Harry suggested.

"I have grading to do," Severus said evenly. "And you, it would appear, are still wrestling with some homework. Let us focus on those first."

_I bet Voldemort isn't wasting his time doing homework._

"And you aren't wasting time torturing your servants," Severus replied evenly. "Only one of those seems to actually be productive to me."

"Stop reading my mind," Harry chuckled uneasily.

"Then raise your shields," Severus said as he wrote down a rather long sentence at the end of someone's essay.

Harry rolled his eyes but did what he was told, enjoying the feel of warming waters and melting snow to coat and protect his thoughts and memories.

An approving glance courtesy of Severus made Harry smile from behind the feather of his quill as he continued where he left off on his Transfiguration essay.

* * *

As Ron had warned him, Harry's was not welcomed back in the tower by everyone. People like Dean and Seamus had wisely kept their mouth mostly shut before, when Harry used the tower only for travelling purposes, but now that they learned that Harry was to come back, they had a thing or two to say.

"I am not sleeping in the same room as him," Dean growled.

"You're always welcome to sleep in the common room," Neville hissed angrily. Harry wondered if the boy's new and more assertive attitude had something to do with the worry he was, no doubt, feeling for his parents.

"Or Potter can just bugger off to wherever he's gone off to the last couple of months," Seamus interjected. "What, are you not welcome at Snape's anymore, either? Figures that even a Slytherin would get enough from your evil ways."

"Oy!" Ron exclaimed. "One more word out of you, Finnegan, and your mum will be buying you a new set of teeth for Christmas."

"Oh yeah?" Seamus hissed. "Do you really think you can take me, Weasley?"

Two hands landed on Seamus' shoulders and he looked up to see the twins smiling down at him in the most creepy way Harry had ever seen them do.

"Don't forget," George said.

"That Ron and Harry have more than a few people on their side," Fred added.

"What do you think?" They said in unison as they bent down a little to whisper in Dean's ears from both sides. "Would you like to be our next guinea pig?"

Seamus paled considerably and started stammering all kinds of nonsense, none of which was comprehensible in any way. But the twins released him to allow him to flee upstairs.

"Anyone else have a problem with Harry?" Fred asked, pinning Dean with a masterful glare.

Dean glared back just as hard but he didn't reply. Instead, he stomped up the stairs as well, leaving the majority of the Gryffindors behind, most of which started chuckling as soon as he was out of sight.

"Thanks," Ron said. "But I didn't need your help."

"Strength in numbers, little brother," Fred said kindly as he ruffled Ron's hair.

"That's what family is for, after all," George agreed, winking at Harry importantly.

"Are you sure you want to sleep in the same room as those prats, Harry?" Fred asked.

"If not, we can always kick Lee out for the night," George added, ignoring Lee Jordan's background exclamations.

"That's really great of you both," Harry replied, smiling widely at the two of them. "But I'll be fine. After all, I've got Ron and Neville in my corner."

Neville seemed to be slightly taken aback to even be considered by Harry and blushed fiercely as he inspected his shoes.

"Fine by us, Harrykins," George said, clapping Harry on the back. "But if you need us to pop a flaming flibbertigibbet in his mouth for you, just come knocking, all right?"

Harry chuckled, feeling bolstered by the twins already. "Will do," he promised.

Most of the other Gryffindors welcomed him back. Some of the greetings were formal but Harry found that a lot of them appeared to be well-meant. There were only four or five others that refused to interact with them, three of them first years. Harry thought that he could handle that much, at least.

Ron and Neville basically escorted Harry into his room with Hermione looking on but when they entered they found Dean and Seamus gathering their bedding in a rather clumsy fashion.

"Leaving, are you?" Ron said snidely. "It's about time as well."

"Remember those words when you're the next one to disappear, Weasley," Seamus spat.

Ron scoffed. "With Harry Potter on my side? There's no way that will happen."

"Yeah," Neville agreed a bit shakily. "We'll be safe. You just worry about yourself." He then wrung his hands a bit and looked at Dean and Seamus worriedly. "Really though, I don't know if it's safe to sleep in the common room by yourselves. What if something happens?"

Dean huffed angrily. "Spare me your false concern, Longbottom," he said. "We'll manage just fine."

And in a flurry of poorly folded sheets and imbalanced pillows, Dean and Seamus headed down the stairs again, leaving the large room to Harry, Ron and Neville.

"Well, that leaves more room for us!" Ron exclaimed happily. He jumped heavily into his bed, bouncing two times off the mattress before it settled.

Neville smiled demurely and took a seat on his own bed, relieving himself of his shoes and outer robes. "It really is good to have you back, Harry," Neville said. "Did Professor Snape manage to stop the visions you were having?"

Harry stammered a bit. He had almost forgotten all about their cover story. "Oh yeah!" he said. "Mostly, anyway. But he helped me fight Voldemort off in my mind." There, that wasn't a complete lie. "He probably won't be trying anything else in a long while."

"I'm glad to hear it," Neville said sincerely.

Harry regarded the shy Gryffindor for a moment, wondering if he should even broach the subject that was on his mind. Thinking that it wouldn't exactly be very Gryffindor of him to avoid the painful subject, he just went for it.

"I heard about your parents," he said. "That they disappeared as well."

Harry almost hadn't noticed how Neville's hand clenched momentarily before relaxing again.

"Your parents?" Ron asked from behind his covers.

"Yeah," Neville said sadly. "It happened a few weeks ago. And no one even saw it happen."

"I'm sure they'll be fine," Ron said soothingly. "You-Know-Who is –"

"Haven't they suffered enough?" Neville asked softly.

Harry frowned. Had he really slept in the same room as this boy for four years, now going on five, without ever really talking to him about his past? Thinking about that now made him feel somewhat ashamed of himself. Surely, the boy suffered as well. Maybe even more so than Harry. He very vaguely knew that his parents had been tortured with the Cruciatus but no one had ever gone very much into detail.

"What happened?" he asked. "To make you have to live with your grandmother?"

Neville sighed and for a long moment, Harry thought that the boy wasn't going to answer. But then he took out a photo that was carefully hidden underneath his pillow and showed it to Harry.

"These are my mum and dad," he said wistfully. Harry recognised them from a picture from the early Order of the Phoenix. "They were very clearly opposed to You-Know-Who and fought him every step of the way. Like _your_ parents, Harry."

Harry nodded, not wanting to interrupt Neville's story. "One day, Bellatrix Lestrange got her hands on them. She tortured them. For a very long time." The picture in Neville's hand was shaking and Harry carefully extracted it from him. "I don't know what kind of information she wanted. But -"

"Oh, no," Ron whispered.

"Yes," Neville confirmed. "No matter how long she kept up the Cruciatus, they never broke to give her what she wanted. They kept fighting until the very end. Until their minds were wiped clean."

"You must be really proud of them," Harry said softly.

"I am," Neville confirmed, wiping at his eyes with the palm of his hand. "They fought for what they believed in. They are my heroes. I just wish that I could make them understand that."

Harry snaked an arm around Neville's shoulders and pulled him into a sidelong hug. He wasn't sure if he envied the boy the survival of his parents. Sure, Harry had never known _his_ but all that Neville had known were empty shells of the people that had once been his mother and father. In a way, they died as well but not in a way to give Neville the opportunity to mourn them.

_No_, Harry thought grimly. _I don't envy him at all._

Ron quietly took the picture from Harry's hand and looked at it with a wan smile on his face. "You look a lot like your mother," he told Neville.

Neville chuckled painfully. "Thanks," he said. "So I've been told."

* * *

_Please don't forget to show me some love.  
__Again, I'm not sure that I'll be updating on Tuesday. It all depends on how fast I can finish chapter 45. I'll definitely see you on Friday, though._


	44. Chapter 44

_As always, thank you all so much for your reviews. They keep me going. I hope you like this next chapter as well!_

* * *

**Chapter 44**

Dean and Seamus were perfectly fine, as became clear when Harry went down into the common room that morning. Sure, they had stiff necks and backs to deal with because of their uncomfortable sleeping arrangements but they were still at Hogwarts. Neville seemed relieved about that, despite their earlier disagreements.

Harry and Ron met up with Hermione and dragged Neville with them to head down for breakfast. The shy boy still seemed a bit surprised to be included but it was the least Harry could do for him, he thought. Especially with everything that was going on.

"Have you thought about the next DA meeting, Harry?" Ron asked softly when they were all seated at the table.

"Not yet," Harry admitted. "A lot has been going on and we don't really have a lot of members left. I don't know if it's even worth the risk anymore."

Ron hummed thoughtfully. "You may have a point there," he said. "But we need some way of keeping in touch with Malfoy. He can only send so many notes before he gets caught."

"Yeah," Hermione agreed. "Especially since the members of the inquisitorial squad have been diminished as well."

"I could ask Severus to give Malfoy a detention," Harry offered. "At the same time that I have one."

"Will Malfoy even want to talk freely when Snape's around, though?" Ron asked. "For all _he_ knows, Snape's still a follower of the Dark Lord."

"Severus doesn't exactly trust Malfoy either," Harry contemplated. And, now that he thought about it, he didn't really want to sacrifice his next Legilimency lesson just for a chance to talk to Malfoy again. He didn't know how much time he would have left to master the skill.

Hermione scoffed. "Oh, honestly, you're making this far too difficult. Just ask him during our next joint class or something."

"Or throw something at him," Ron suggested. "He'll get the message."

Harry snorted. "Alright, alright," he said. "We'll see what happens. As you said, it shouldn't be too hard."

As luck would have it, though, Harry didn't have to wait to encounter Malfoy all by himself and he couldn't help but wonder if the Slytherin had been thinking the same thing he had been.

When Harry went to the bathroom right after lunch that same day, Malfoy was waiting for him outside of the stall when Harry came back out, casually leaning against the wall whilst checking his nails.

"Fancy meeting you here, Potter," he said haughtily.

"Following me around now, Malfoy?" Harry replied in kind as he went to wash his hands. "And here I thought you'd never join my fan club."

Malfoy snickered before locking and warding the door. Harry smiled at him. Great minds did think alike, didn't they?

"So, what's the latest?" Harry asked, wondering about how swiftly he had become accustomed to Malfoy's presence.

"Umbridge is becoming increasingly frustrated about something," Malfoy said. "She hasn't told anyone what that is but I suspect that minister Fudge isn't too happy with her. She's been patrolling the seventh-floor corridor as if she knows exactly what's been going on there. She's not happy about not finding anything, either."

"How did she even find out in the first place?" Harry asked, crossing his arms in contemplation.

Malfoy sighed. "Who knows. Maybe someone wasn't careful enough when leaving. Or maybe it's nothing but a suspicion. Either way, it's not safe to head back there any time soon."

"I wasn't planning on it," Harry said. "Besides, it's not as if there's a whole lot of members left who are willing to come near me."

Malfoy scoffed. "Bunch of imbeciles, the lot of them," he said scornfully. "If it makes you feel any better, the inquisitorial squad can only be considered to be slim at best."

Harry frowned. "I don't approve of Slytherins disappearing either," he said sternly. "You know that."

Malfoy half-grinned at him. "Typical Gryffindor," he said. "Can't recognise a good thing when it nearly bites him in the arse."

Harry wanted to say something snide in return when he caught the playful smirk on Malfoy's face. The blonde was just messing with him.

"Don't be such a prat," Harry jibed, tossing a roll of toilet paper at Malfoy which was expertly dodged. "Anything else?"

Malfoy glanced at the ceiling as if thinking something over before replying. "Nothing too extraordinary, I'd say," he said. "Marcus Belby's been bothering Umbridge for a role in the inquisitorial squad. Says his leadership could turn us into efficient little soldiers or something."

"Belby?" Harry asked. "Isn't he a Ravenclaw?"

"Yeah," Malfoy agreed. "As ambitious as a Slytherin, though, that one."

"Did he get in yet?" Harry asked.

"No," Malfoy replied. "And I don't expect that he will. Umbridge seems to favour Slytherins more and who can blame her, really?"

"Malfoy…" Harry growled.

"Yeah, so there's that…" Malfoy said pensively. "Oh, and she's planning on closing down the Hogwarts floo network starting sometime tomorrow. Though I don't think a lot of students are using that anyway so how she expects that to benefit her is beyond me."

"Would it be too naïve to think that she might be trying to stop the disappearances?" Harry asked, knowing that it was a long shot even if Umbridge had banned quidditch for that exact reason."

"Hm," Malfoy contemplated that for a moment. "Maybe she expects someone from the staff to be responsible," he agreed. "Since she's from the ministry, she would know that Professor Snape… er… has done some questionable things in his past. She might suspect him because of it."

"That's ridiculous," Harry scoffed, immediately insulted simply by the idea of it.

Malfoy snorted. "Of course it is," he agreed. "But she's so stupid, she might very well be thinking it."

"Did she say anything about the last disappearances?" Harry asked.

Malfoy rolled his eyes when he remembered her reaction. "Oh, yes," he said. "She was livid, to say the least. Said it was their own fault for not listening to her. Sprout is apparently all over her because of it. And Professor Snape's been even less friendly towards her than before. I think the teachers are getting sick of her and fast."

Harry smiled inwardly, knowing exactly what Severus' problem with Umbridge was but not willing to share that secret with Malfoy. After all, he still wasn't sure that he fully trusted the blonde, even now.

Malfoy raised an eyebrow, probably because of Harry's silence. "Anything else you'd like me to report?" he asked casually.

"Nothing that I can think of right now," Harry admitted. "But what do we do if we want to talk to each other again?"

Malfoy shrugged. "I'll just hex you very mildly in the hallway," he drawled. "Come here after I do."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Have it your way," he agreed, if only because they were still supposed to act like enemies. "And I'll do the same if I need you."

"Excellent," Malfoy said. "Then I will be on my way. Wait five minutes before coming out, alright?"

Harry chuckled a bit because of Malfoy's carefulness but reminded himself that it was necessary. "Alright. I'll see you around, then."

Malfoy nodded and was about to open the door when Harry stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. "One more thing."

Malfoy quirked an eyebrow. "What?"

"Thank you, Draco," Harry said honestly. "For taking this risk."

For a moment, Malfoy looked exceedingly uncomfortable before he schooled his expression into a neutral one. "Yeah, well, you owe me big time after this, Potter, and don't you forget it."

Harry laughed. "I won't," he agreed and then the Slytherin left, leaving Harry to kill five minutes before he too exited the bathroom.

* * *

That evening, Harry found himself in Severus' office to serve his daily detention. It was ridiculous to know just how much he was looking forward to this Legilimency session but he was. When did it become so normal for Severus to be in his mind? Or, in this case, for Harry to try and read Severus's.

"Have a seat," Severus drawled. Harry did as he was told and watched as Severus locked the door and warded his office.

"There," the man said when he was done. "Are you ready for your next lesson?"

Harry nodded eagerly.

Severus smirked. "It won't be quite as easy as last time," he warned. "If you'll recall, I didn't raise my shields and I guided you towards a specific memory. This time, I'll be expecting you to break through my barriers and search for something that could possibly interest you."

"Like the answers to the next quiz?" Harry asked cheekily.

"If you can," Severus said evenly. "I realise you've only done this once but I can sense potential in you."

Harry reminded himself that he had actually done it twice, one of the times with Voldemort but he didn't think bringing that up would contribute to Severus' good mood.

"I will do my best," Harry promised, not wanting to sound too confident lest Severus would start another lecture.

Severus took a seat across from Harry and steepled his fingers. "When you're ready," he said.

Harry nodded and focused on the wand in his hand. He, once again, imagined himself as that incorporeal Patronus, the way he had done before and aimed his wand at Severus.

"Legilimens!"

The last time, there had been no wall in Harry's way but this time, his passage was blocked in the most magnificent way. He was overlooking a vast ocean that didn't seem to have a beginning nor an end to it. Right in front of him, there was a large whirlpool that could easily fit an entire city in its core. It roared and swirled around fiercely to stave off any intruders, protecting a large, watery sphere that was hovering at its very centre. It was coloured a pastel blue that Harry had only ever seen in paintings. And, of course, in the waters that occasionally invaded his mind courtesy of Severus. At a steady pace, the sphere dripped droplets into the large whirlpool below it but without losing mass at all. Ghostly images seemed to float near its surface but without taking form. The skies overhead were clear and were reflected by the ocean so perfectly that it was impossible to see where the sky began and the ocean ended.

For one very long moment, Harry couldn't help but stare onwards in awe. His own decaying Occlumency shields were a very far cry from these. How many years of practice had it taken Severus to get to this point of expertise? Just how large was the gap between him and Harry? And how in the world was Harry ever going to breach these shields to get into Severus' mind? The sheer vastness of it all was already rendering him hopeless and willing to just back out now, which was strange seeing how he had really wanted to do this. It was almost as if those feelings weren't exactly his own.

**You're taking an awfully long time.**

Severus' voice seemed to be present all around Harry, temporarily stilling the waters as if he was their lord and master. Of course, that was exactly what he was, Harry supposed.

**Don't allow my walls to steer you off course. Find your determination and make your attempt.**

Harry then realised that the previous emotions hadn't been his own, after all, but rather a further construct of Severus' walls. The sheer perfection of them was mind-boggling but Harry didn't allow himself to be swayed from his goal any longer.

Severus had told him before that the way to bypass one's walls could be altered depending on the person you were attacking. And he remembered how Severus had so often presented himself to Harry in his mind.

Steady as water.

Harry took a deep breath and closed his eyes to shield them from the perfect horizon. He listened to the roaring of the whirlpool surrounded by the eerie stillness of a vast ocean. He reminded himself of the waters lurking behind his icy wall. The previously dark depths that had slowly become more clear. The melting snow and the drizzling rain.

The storm.

Harry gathered himself and willed his mind to become that storm. He touched the water and reminded himself of its fluidity and coldness. The previously clear skies started to fill with clouds. Clouds that were entirely Harry's doing. Their grey masses drew nearer to the scene and Harry could feel how he was drawn into them. The cold engulfed him but he welcomed it.

He became the hardest rains.

He became the coldest winds.

The ocean beneath him didn't maintain its stillness but waves started to roll into the whirlpool, causing more than the controlled chaos there had been. In the throes of the hurricane that he had created himself, Harry was blown towards the sphere. As soon as he entered the whirlpool, though, water erupted from its coils, hardening into the most ethereal looking spikes Harry had ever seen. They reached for him and tried to throw him off course but Harry navigated their perilous track easily, relying on the water of the rain to easily glide downward. No matter what was in its way.

And then he reached it. Inside of the sphere, there seemed to be a dim light, clouded by the shrouded faces of memories past. Using his state of immaterialism, Harry wrapped himself around the sphere, allowing the waters within to absorb him. It went surprisingly smoothly and before Harry knew it, he was dropped into a dark hallway corridor fashioned entirely out of dark stone. The occasional torch hung on the wall, leaving an aesthetically eerie light behind for any intruder to see. A small layer of water glistened in the faint light, reminding Harry that Severus was still here. And that he was everywhere. But perhaps, he could trick the waters into accepting his own, allowing Harry to navigate the labyrinth that was Severus' mind.

Now, what exactly did he want to see? Thinking about it now, Harry realised that he should have thought about this before. On the off chance that it would work, he really didn't want to trigger something that would be unpleasant to Severus, such as anything to do with Voldemort. He had jokingly suggested the answers to the next test before but now that he was here, that just seemed like an entirely underwhelming idea.

But then what…

And then Harry thought of something. A scene that Severus didn't want to go ahead and retell himself but one that Harry was eager to see how it went.

Severus' recent return to the Dursley household.

Concentrating on manipulating Severus' mindscape, Harry created what he thought was a boy with a striking resemblance to Dudley Dursley, extending a hand filled with the crack that Severus had retrieved the other day.

_There, that should be specific enough._

A baritone voice chuckling from all around him told him that he was doing well.

**Why doesn't this surprise me?**

It took a moment but soon, the dungeon corridors surrounding Harry started swirling in the vortex that Harry recognised from his own mind whenever a memory was triggered. He vaguely wondered if all minds worked like this but was quickly spat out by the colourful maelstrom into the bland dining room that Harry recognised as the Dursleys'.

Harry had the home advantage here, he knew. He knew every knickknack there was to be found in this house. After all, he had been dusting each and every one hundreds of times. For someone who hadn't been in here all that often, it would be hard to distinguish any odd figurine among the myriad of trinkets that Petunia had placed on carefully chosen shelves. Harry tried to blend in, in the form of a little music box that matched the colour of the décor perfectly.

Memory Severus walked into the dining room with the poise of someone who had every right to be there. When Vernon saw him, he immediately erupted into a fit of fearful wails as he flung himself from his chair in an attempt to get away from the dark intruder. Petunia, on the other hand, scowled nastily even as she retreated into the same corner her husband was now occupying.

"What are _you_ doing here?" she spat viciously.

"Worry not, Tuney," Severus drawled. "I'm merely here for your son."

Dudley, who had been sitting strangely still during this whole debacle, dropped his fork with a loud clang and frowned at Severus. "Me?" he asked.

"No," Severus growled. "Their other son. Of course you, you imbecile."

"Don't you dare speak to Dudley that way!" Petunia screeched. "Vernon, say something!"

"Take what you want," Vernon said shakily. "But leave our son alone."

Severus graciously sank into a chair and crossed his legs as he narrowed his eyes at Dudley. Harry thought it was heartening to see that his cousin was still not as afraid of magic as he once had been but wondered, at the same time, if this memory would change that.

"It has come to my attention that you know where to find a certain substance I require," Severus said calmly, ignoring the two larger Dursleys that were still cowering in the corner. "I believe that your cousin referred to it as 'crack'."

Dudley opened his mouth to reply but it was Petunia's voice that broke the silence. "What?!" she screeched. "How dare you?" She got up and pointed a bony finger at Severus who merely raised an eyebrow in response. "After everything you've done to this family, now you come here and accuse my son of dealing drugs? All because that little freak told you so?!"

Severus' amused smirk quickly fell and he very calmly and slowly rose from his chair to meet Petunia face to face. "I'm warning you, Petunia," he growled. "If you dare to refer to Mr Potter in quite that fashion again, I _will_ make you regret it."

"Vernon," Petunia hissed at her husband. "Vernon, get up! Do something!"

Once again, Harry was astounded to see just how frightened and pathetic his uncle really was. It made him feel stupid to ever have endured the man's abuse but he also realised that it hadn't been his fault. No, he hadn't been stupid. He was a child. And Vernon, though a muggle, was five times his size easily.

To his credit, the man finally scrambled to his feet, eyed Severus' hands that weren't holding his wand yet and quickly glanced over at Dudley who was decidedly pale.

"Listen here," Vernon said, his voice still trembling with obvious panic. "If my wife says my boy doesn't know anything, he doesn't. Why don't you get out of here and… try your luck in London or something?"

Thoroughly unimpressed, Severus glared at Vernon, now finally drawing his wand. Vernon recoiled a little but remained on his feet this time.

"You cannot threaten me like this in my own house," Vernon told him angrily. "Petunia told me all about it. I will tell the police of your kind all about you. They'll throw you in jail… or something."

"And what will the muggle police say when they find out about what happened here?" Severus asked slyly. "Will they simply let you walk, I wonder?"

"Nobody cares about that freak! I bet that –"

Whatever hurtful barb Vernon would have uttered next was lost entirely when Severus' fist connected with Vernon's jaw. Vernon stumbled back a bit, perplexed to be attacked in a very muggle way, but wasn't able to recover his balance before Severus struck him again, right on the nose. Instantly, blood flew everywhere, a few of the spatters reaching Severus' face to which the man was completely oblivious. Vernon hollered in pain and crumpled to the floor in a pathetic heap.

"Can't take what you hand out, can you?" Severus asked bitterly. "Figures." He then waved his wand once and Vernon flew into the hallway with great velocity. Harry heard the distinct creak of the cupboard door as it opened, followed by a loud bang and an even louder slamming of a door.

"There," Severus said plainly. "Let's see how he likes his new room. Where was I?"

"Stop it!" Petunia screeched. "Stop it right now! You have no right!"

"Tuney, sometimes you're simply too stupid for your own good," Severus told her. "You could have walked away unscathed and yet you keep provoking me. How you believe that to be a good idea is beyond me, really."

"You attacked my husband!" Petunia screeched her defence.

"He attacked a child!" Severus roared back, his patience finally snapping in the face of Harry's own tormenters. "You both did! How dare you sit there and pretend to be the picture of perfect parents when you've treated your own nephew more horribly than I've ever seen a parent treat their child? How dare you defend yourselves, knowing what I know?!" He raised his wand to Petunia's eye level. The sudden dread in her eyes made clear just how aware she was of the danger she was in.

"I assure you," Severus said, his voice venomous and low, "that if I had my way, I would deliver you both to the Dark Lord. Or better yet, I would torture you myself, death being the inevitable release neither of you deserves."

Severus glared at Petunia for one long moment. Her breathing was harsh and shallow and Harry imagined that she finally realised just how badly she had messed up. In the background, Harry could hear the pounding on his cupboard door and wondered how long the door would hold when faced with the strength of Vernon's furious fists. On the other hand, Severus might have reinforced the door for good measure.

Severus tilted his head ever so slightly. "Unfortunately, I am unable to kill or horribly torture you myself, if only because your own nephew might one day witness this memory."

"What?" Petunia stammered. "I don't –"

"However," Severus continued. "I will not leave here without my revenge. Not again." His eyes were dark and cold. So cold, that Harry wouldn't have been surprised if Severus had just killed Petunia right there anyway, despite what he had just said. But he didn't.

"Being normal is so very important to you, isn't it?" Severus then drawled. "Not that the size of your husband and son are, in any way, normal but I know that, more than anything, you want to fit in." Severus twiddled his wand between his fingers, a gesture that Harry had always found very intimidating before he had truly come to know the Potion Master.

"Well, the curses of old might have become a tad out of style but…"

Petunia lunged herself at the door but one wave of Severus' wand slammed it in her face. She fervently scratched at the door and turned the knob again and again but there was no escape for her. She knew it, Severus knew it and Harry knew it. Even Dudley, who was watching all of this in a state of shock knew it, Harry suspected.

Content that his prey wasn't going anywhere anymore, Severus waved his wand in intricate patterns and started a long incantation in a language that Harry didn't know. It seemed closely related to Latin but not close enough for Harry to recognise anything.

Suddenly, Petunia screeched as if in agony and Harry wondered what was going on until he saw his aunt claw at her scalp, only to remove the hair that was already starting to fall out. Her eyebrows and eyelashes fell out as well. Her skin became a blotchy yellow and on both hands, her index and middle fingers became fused, as if joint together by some sort of film. Every other tooth she had fell out and she hurriedly fell to her knees as she tried to gather them up.

"Disgusting," Severus told her. "Just the way you are on the inside."

"Thnape! what did you do?" Petunia asked. Severus quirked an amused eyebrow as Petunia flung her hands against her mouth.

"Thtop thith!" She said again, tears now wallowing in her eyes. It was a pitiful sight, indeed, but Harry couldn't really feel sorry for her.

"You will live as a freak for a while," Severus told her matter-of-factly. "Until you realise just how unfair you've been to your nephew. Sadly for you, I suspect it'll be a while."

"Vernon!" Petunia screeched again.

"Your husband won't be much better off, I promise," Severus said. "Equality and all that."

He then turned to Dudley, finally putting his wand away while Petunia collapsed against the door, sobbing hysterically. "Now," Severus said. "Where do I get this crack?"

Dudley glanced at his mother once, his expression showing the war that went on inside himself. "I ah… I'll show you if you want."

Severus nodded. "That would be amenable," he agreed.

The memory disappeared in another swirl of colour and Harry was ejected from Severus' mind. When he opened his eyes, he could see the man sitting across from him, regarding him carefully.

"I found you," Snape said evenly.

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "Took you long enough, though."

Severus steepled his fingers and regarded Harry carefully. "Is there anything you'd like to say to me?" he asked, perhaps a bit worried about what he had done.

Harry scratched his neck absentmindedly, smiling a little as he found Severus' gaze. "Yeah," he said. "Thank you."

* * *

Harry found himself on his bed, finishing his homework while snuggled into his covers. Hermione had scolded him several times for that already, saying one was far more focused whilst seated at their desk but Harry couldn't help retreating to his warm bed at times. Especially now, when so many people kept staring at him when he was down in the common room, he felt much more comfortable in his dorm. Especially since Dean and Seamus still refused to sleep there.

Working on a potions essay that was due in a couple of days, Harry sighed and lost himself in his textbook. Honestly, this part about symbiotic metamorphosing truly made no sense.

_Severus_.

He hadn't tried reaching Severus from quite such a distance just yet and wondered if it would work. It was a bit silly, really. He hadn't been back in the tower for all that long yet but somehow he wanted the reassurance of Severus' voice. Even if it was only there in his mind.

He tried again.

_Severus_.

**Harry. Is everything all right?**

Harry smiled to himself.

_Yeah. Just trying to figure out this symbiotic metamorphosing deal._

**I can't talk right now. Stay in the tower.**

Harry frowned. It was past curfew and he hadn't been planning on going anywhere anyway.

_What's wrong?_

**Stay in the tower and occlude your mind.**

With a snap, Harry closed his textbook and sat upright in his bed, straight as a candle, while he built up his occlumency shields.

He wondered what was going on but didn't have to wait long before he found out. Ron suddenly barged into the room, disturbing Harry's meditation.

"Harry!" he exclaimed. "Everyone has to come to the common room right away."

"Why?" Harry asked, already moving despite himself. "What's going on?"

"McGonagall asked me to come get you. Now hurry up!" Ron grabbed Harry's arm and dragged him down the stairs where the entire fleet of Gryffindors was already waiting for them. Dean and Seamus seemed almost murderous when they fixed Harry with a contemptuous glare.

"Ah, Mr Potter, there you are," McGonagall said in obvious relief. A floating quill marked something on a clipboard and McGonagall nodded her head. "Alright, that's everyone then," she said.

"What's going on, Professor?" Hermione asked. "Someone else disappeared, didn't they?"

"Ms Granger," McGonagall said sternly. "Surely, you understand that this is not a discussion I'm allowed to have."

"Please, Professor," Ron tried. "We all know what's going on. We have friends in other houses too, you know? We won't tell Umbridge that you told us."

Harry nodded along. "Please tell us," he asked, secretly worrying about the remaining members of the DA.

McGonagall sighed and glanced at the ceiling as if praying for strength. She looked tired and Harry couldn't blame her. "Yes," she then agreed. "I suppose you make a fair point. Though I rely on your discretion."

There was a joint murmur of agreement to which McGonagall gave a sharp nod.

"Two students," she said curtly. "One is Mr Marcus Belby from Ravenclaw and the other is Ms Pansy Parkinson from Slytherin."

Everyone looked at each other to see if those names meant something important to anyone but it didn't appear so. Harry, though, remembered that Malfoy had said that Belby had applied to be a part of the inquisitorial squad. And now he had gone and disappeared alongside an existing member? What did that mean? Had Parkinson taken him somewhere? On the other hand, she was the seventh Slytherin to disappear. None of the others had come back so Harry didn't expect she would either. No, the Slytherins were as much a victim as the other houses were. Perhaps even more so.

Harry's mind wandered to Severus. Another one of his snakes gone. Another evening of trying to calm the Slytherins down. A house that couldn't rely on anyone else.

Harry couldn't help but think how lonely they all had to feel at times like these. He wished he could just walk over there and offer some comfort to them all. Something that could only happen in an alternate reality, to be sure. But at least, he might be able to provide Severus with some comfort.

_I'm really sorry about what happened. I just heard._

Harry didn't get a reply, but he couldn't help but wonder about the brief, lukewarm sensation he felt. Even if it had only lasted for a second. It was almost as if Severus had reached out for a small moment. As if in a show of appreciation. It wasn't much but it meant a lot.

* * *

_Things are moving at a faster pace now. Very soon, things will evolve to the next stage. Please let me know what you thought and I'll see you all on Friday._


	45. Chapter 45

_A big thank you to everyone who reviewed. And, of course, to my big bad beta who told me what needed improving in this chapter. Please enjoy because it's extra long!_

* * *

**Chapter 45**

It was different from before. This time, Harry was even able to contemplate just how different things were. He saw and felt the same kind of things as he always did but, this time, he was not overcome by _his_ emotions. He did not experience everything the way _he_ did.

No, he was fully aware of his circumstances. He was asleep in the Gryffindor tower but his mind was somewhere very far away. Farther than the Malfoy manor, even. This time, his mind revisited the place of his first visions. That eerie forest black as night. Voldemort stood on a raised platform in the shape of a circle, its outer ring adorned with a long line of intricately carved runes. In the middle of it stood a large spire that reached for the skies, made from the whitest marble.

Several items of import were placed on tactical spots in the circle. Harry recognised the ring, locket and cup but also saw a diadem that he hadn't seen before. Had that been the last item Voldemort wanted to collect? If so, when had he even done that? And how? Hadn't he said that it was at Hogwarts? Nagini slithered close behind Voldemort, occasionally raising her head when she heard something in the distance.

Wormtail was cowering somewhere in the dirt, away from the platform. This time there were other Death Eaters present as well. Harry didn't recognise them because of the masks they all wore but he recognised the name Voldemort spoke next.

"Severus," he purred nastily. "Step closer."

One of the Death Eaters walked up to and kneeled reverently before Voldemort. He took off his mask as a sign of respect and bowed his head, waiting for his master's commands or questions. If Harry had had a physical body with which to watch the following exchange, he would have swallowed away the lump that formed in his throat. Instead, he watched anxiously as he felt Voldemort's glee wash over him.

Severus didn't speak. Voldemort reached out and lightly caressed Severus' head as if he would a beloved pet. Harry hated him for it. Wanted nothing more than to rip the offending hand off. He could only take comfort in the fact that Voldemort hadn't tortured the man. Yet.

"Severus, have you completed the task I set for you?" Voldemort asked pleasantly. But Harry knew just how quickly the man could shift if he found out that he didn't get what he wanted.

"I have, my Lord," Severus replied with certainty. "I would never dare fail you."

Harry noted the slight surprise and childish contentment from Voldemort as he withdrew his hand. "Marvellous," he said softly. "I shouldn't have expected anything less from my Potions Master." He waved a casual hand in Severus' direction. "Rise, my old friend."

Severus did and removed the potion vials he had brought with him. The liquid was a Slytherin green, speckled with light blue. It was unlike anything Harry had ever seen and he knew that Voldemort hadn't either.

"I understand that you haven't yet tested it on humans," Voldemort stated. "Despite the fact that that old relic is no longer headmaster of Hogwarts. Care to explain yourself?"

"My Lord," Severus said submissively. "I didn't think I could do so under the nose of a ministry official either."

A dark sense of amusement overcame Voldemort. He shifted his gaze to his other followers who hadn't moved a muscle during this entire interaction. "It is of no matter," he said. "You will have plenty of test subjects here."

"Here?" Severus repeated, looking around the circle. "But, my Lord, I will be expected back at Hogwarts. If I don't return –"

"You defy my orders?" Voldemort asked silkily.

Severus sank back to his knees, bowing his head as low as he could. "Of course not, my Lord. I apologise."

"You are forgiven this once, Severus," Voldemort said graciously. "If only because you have served me well today. Yes –" He looked around the circle of his faithful followers once more and smiled. "You have all proven your worth over the course of the last months. It is now nearly time. As soon as Severus is done testing the potion and gathering the required ingredients to make more, we shall proceed to the next stage of our plan."

Bellatrix giggled uncontrollably and Harry wondered what she knew. Or maybe, she really was just close to insanity.

"As for you, Severus," Voldemort said. He grasped the man's chin and softly tilted it upwards so that he was forced to look up. He met Voldemort's gaze and Harry hated the way his mentor looked at him. Even if it wasn't _really_ at him. "You will be missed at Hogwarts, I'm sure. But at this point, it won't matter anymore. When this is all over… let's just say that Dumbledore will not be able to stop me anymore. Hogwarts _will_ fall."

Severus kept his expression carefully neutral. An admirable feat, in Harry's book. "Yes, my Lord," he said and Voldemort let go of his chin.

"Get started," Voldemort hissed. "None of you will go home tonight. Wormtail, take care of the prisoners. Make sure that they are ready. If any of them are unable to participate in the main event, it will be your head that rolls."

Wormtail trembled pathetically in the dirt. "Y-yes, my Lord," he stammered. "I will make sure that they're all up and ready."

"As for the rest of you," Voldemort drawled as if he was almost bored with this entire meeting. "See to it that you follow Severus' instructions. At the moment, his orders are only second to mine."

A beautifully chorused 'Yes, my Lord' permeated the night sky and Voldemort smiled in the face of their obedience. The clock was ticking and he was almost done. Four more, including _him_, and then he'd be ready.

* * *

Harry shot up straight in his bed from the moment he became aware of himself again. Cold sweat beaded his brow and his breathing was laboured and uneven.

"Harry?" Ron was clumsily trying to untangle his legs from his sheets. "Is it your scar?"

"Is everything alright?" Neville then said. And Harry cursed himself quietly for waking up his dormmates. More than anything, though, he was worried.

"I don't know," he said honestly. "It could have been a dream, but…" he wasn't sure. Previously, when he had a vision, he would see things through Voldemort's eyes. He would _be_ him. That hadn't happened this time. And while that might be a sign that this was a dream rather than a vision, he thought it could also be the result of his Occlumency sessions.

_Severus. Are you awake?_

No response. Harry muttered some expletives under his breath as he thought this over.

"Harry?" Ron urged. "Talk to me."

"It's _him_," Harry told Ron importantly. "He's been called in."

"Do you think someone disappeared?" Neville asked worriedly. "How do you know?"

Harry shook his head. "No, not like that," he said. "No one disappeared. It's just... someone I know is in danger. I saw it."

"It's the visions you talked about, isn't it?" Neville said darkly, a small quiver to his voice. "Do you need us to come with you and check on this person?"

"No," Harry said, sighing. He couldn't go down to the dungeons now. And for more reasons than one. Not only were there the disappearances which he now realised he would be a part of as well if Voldemort's musings were anything to go by. But there was also the matter of Umbridge, who would gleefully give Harry more detentions as soon as she realised that Severus was gone. If he, indeed, was gone.

Ron glanced at Neville before getting out of bed after finally untangling his legs. "Harry, what did you see?" he whispered. "Is he hurt?" Harry knew that Ron was aware of whom Harry was speaking and was doing his best to keep this information from Neville. Harry could appreciate that.

He shook his head. "No," Harry admitted. "He's fine."

"Do you think he'll get hurt soon?" Ron then asked.

"I don't think so," Harry said.

"He knows what he's doing, doesn't he?" Ron said.

"Yes, he does," Harry agreed. "And it seemed like everything was under control. It's just... something has changed."

Neville seemed very confused and Harry couldn't help but think it was unfair to keep things from the boy. Especially now.

"Look, whatever plan he has, he's speeding things up," Harry said. "Neville, can I trust you to keep a secret?"

"Of course you can," Neville said. "I didn't tell anyone about the DA, did I?"

Harry took a deep breath before speaking. "The one I saw was Professor Snape. He's been called away from Hogwarts and will not return anytime soon."

"But you said he had everything under control," Ron urged. "Right, Harry?"

"Yeah," Harry said, hoping that his instincts were right. "I hope so."

Neville made a weird sound. "I'm not sure what's going on here," he said softly. "But if anyone can survive this war, I think it's Professor Snape." Neville shuddered a bit. "I bet even You-Know-Who would be afraid of going to his class."

Harry chuckled. "Yeah," he said. "Maybe you're right."

Harry felt a bit better after talking things out and soon, his weariness took him in its hold again. The three boys wished each other good night and retreated to their beds.

_I hope you're alright_, Harry's thoughts raised into the night sky. And even though he got no reply, he knew that it was important to trust Severus. Whatever Voldemort was planning, he would not be getting away with it.

When sleep overcame Harry once more, the visions didn't return and he slept peacefully for the remainder of the night.

* * *

Severus wasn't there at breakfast. And sure, that wasn't an abnormal occurrence per se, but it definitely didn't put Harry's mind at ease. When he wasn't there at lunch either, Harry felt the overwhelming need to go down to the dungeons but knew that that wouldn't look good. But when he wasn't there at dinner either, Harry's suspicions were pretty much set in stone. His face turned dark when he saw the empty seat and he noticed that Umbridge was eying it with much glee. Did she already know that Harry's usual detentions wouldn't be able to take place anymore?

But before he could panic too much, McGonagall appeared at the Gryffindor table to speak to Harry.

"Mr Potter," she said evenly.

"Good evening, Professor," Harry replied uneasily.

"There's no need to look so alarmed," McGonagall told him. "I'm here to inform you that your detention tonight will be served with me."

She looked as if she expected Harry to argue and seemed a bit worried when he didn't. It was not as if Harry hadn't seen this coming, though. He was just glad that Umbridge hadn't been able to get to him yet.

"Understood, Professor," Harry said and she turned and walked away.

"That could have gone worse," Hermione told him. Harry had informed her that morning about his vision and she had seemed as worried about Severus as Ron had been. She too was convinced that the man knew how to handle himself and that he would be all right.

"I suppose," Harry agreed. "What are _you_ going to do tonight?"

"What else?" Hermione said, her eyes wide. "I have so much studying to do! With the O.W.L.'s coming up in only a few months, I feel that I am way behind. If I don't get started on Arithmancy tonight, I'll _never_ be able to catch up."

"What about you?" Harry asked Ron whom he knew would not be spending his time in the library.

For some reason, that question caused Neville to blush in embarrassment.

"Ah, I was actually going to practice some spells with Neville," Ron said, clapping Neville on the shoulder. "He never did quite get that Ventus down."

"It's a complicated spell," Harry said, trying to make the boy feel better. "I'm sorry that I haven't scheduled any more DA sessions, Neville. It's just that –"

"Don't worry about it," Neville was quick to interrupt. "I'm just grateful you helped us as long as you did. I just want to be prepared, you know."

Harry did know. "Yeah," he said. "That's really good of you, Neville. Keep it up." He then smiled gratefully at Ron before finally getting up to face the music. "Just be careful to stay out of Umbridge's way," he whispered for good measure.

"You're underestimating the sneakiness of the Weasleys, Harry," Ron said confidently.

"Have fun studying, Hermione," Harry said as to not leave her out.

She just rolled her eyes good-naturedly before shooing him off. "Hurry now before you're late."

"I'm going, I'm going," Harry said. He glanced one more time at the head table and caught Umbridge's eye. She had been staring at him, he now realised, and her eyes narrowed when he met her gaze. Not wanting to provoke the toad in any way, Harry quickly looked away and hastily walked out of the great hall with the Transfiguration office as his next stop.

* * *

"Mr Potter, do come in," McGonagall said after she had opened the door. "Make yourself comfortable."

Harry blinked away his confusion before taking a seat in the chair facing McGonagall's desk, where she had gestured he should sit. Waiting for him was a cup of tea and a plate of biscuits. And while Harry had just eaten, he had to admit that they looked very appetising. McGonagall took her own seat and took one of the biscuits, biting off a piece with a contented smile.

"Professor?" Harry prompted. "What's going on?"

McGonagall chuckled. "Oh, honestly," she said. "You didn't think I was actually going to have you serve detention, do you? I highly doubt that Severus did."

"What makes you think that?" Harry asked carefully.

McGonagall stirred some sugar into her tea as she contemplated the question. "I will not pretend to know what has transpired between you and Umbridge," she said. "But I know that it was bad enough for Severus to pretend to give you detentions for such a long time. Surely, you didn't think I would let such a harsh punishment slide? No, I marched straight up to his office and demanded to know what happened."

Harry chuckled. "That probably went great."

"Oh, indeed," McGonagall replied importantly. "At first, Severus insisted that you serve your detentions but when I threatened to just cancel them as is my right as your head of house, he informed me that there was a good reason involving that woman." She paused to take a sip. "The same reason that he had me warn Ms Granger, I believe."

Harry sighed. "Professor –"

"You need not humour me, Mr Potter," McGonagall told him seriously. "As much as I would like to pretend that it was me you had gone to for aid, I realise that you and Severus have grown a lot closer these past months. In fact, it all happened so fast, I would almost think magic was involved."

Harry quietly thought that, to him, it appeared to have taken a lot longer than was actually true. The day that Severus had started impersonating Dudley now seemed a lifetime ago. So much had happened since that day. Things that would get even the worst of enemies to get along.

"Things happened," Harry replied lamely.

"Yes, that is quite obvious," McGonagall said. "More tea?"

Harry hadn't even realised that he had drunk his entire cup. He gratefully handed McGonagall the cup and watched her refill it.

"Why are you taking over my detentions?" Harry asked her.

"Severus warned me that he won't be back for a while," McGonagall said. "He asked me for this favour. Not that he needed to. I would have done so anyway."

"How did he contact you?" Harry asked in confusion.

"Hmm," McGonagall hummed. "Not surprised in the least about Severus' prolonged absence, I see." She smiled when she caught Harry's exasperated expression. "Oh, very well. He contacted me using his Patronus. A nifty trick, if I do say so myself. Now, why don't you tell me what you know?"

Harry grabbed a biscuit and started fiddling with it. "I suppose that you understand that I had a vision," Harry said. McGonagall nodded for Harry to continue. "They were all standing in a forest on some kind of altar or something." Harry wasn't sure if McGonagall knew about the Horcruxes and decided not to tell her just in case. "A lot of Death Eaters were there. Severus was one of them. Voldemort wanted him to test a new potion and for that, he has to stay longer. He said that the plan could almost move to the next phase."

McGonagall frowned. "Did he mention what that plan was?"

The biscuit crumbled a bit in Harry's hands. "No," he said. "Not really. But he did mention the people who went missing. Told Wormtail to start preparing them. He also said that…"

Harry wasn't sure if he should mention more.

"Go on, Harry," McGonagall urged gently.

"He said that he needs four more people," Harry admitted. "And he said that he needs me."

McGonagall pursed her lips. "Of course this year wouldn't be any different, would it?" she said angrily. "Harry, I'm so sorry. We'll have to make sure that you're safe."

Harry laughed bitterly. "Safe?" he repeated. "No offence, Professor, but I don't see that happening. Severus and Dumbledore are both gone and the person in charge is someone who, honestly, wants me in jail if not dead."

"What?" McGonagall exclaimed. "Whatever makes you say that?"

Harry bit his lower lip. He should not have said that. "Nothing," he said. "Just some theories, really. But the fact of the matter is that the ministry is not on my side. They don't even believe that Voldemort is back."

"I see your point," McGonagall said sternly. "Nevertheless, I will have to try."

Harry smiled a little at the show of concern, even though he knew McGonagall would not be able to stop the inevitable.

"So what now?" Harry asked.

"First, I will contact Albus," McGonagall said. "He has to know immediately what it is that you saw. Unfortunately, he won't be able to floo here."

"I know," Harry sighed.

McGonagall regarded him sternly. "And how would you know that?" she asked.

Harry smiled sheepishly. "Friends in high places?"

"In low places, you mean," McGonagall countered but Harry could see the amusement in her eyes. She then waved her wand and conjured a Patronus in the form of a silvery cat. Harry watched as McGonagall spoke to it softly after which it disappeared through the window. Then, McGonagall sat back down and casually refilled her cup for the third time that evening.

"So how are you doing, Mr Potter?" she asked.

"Me?" Harry said. "What do you mean?"

"It has not escaped my notice that some of your housemates are being… less than amicable," McGonagall replied diplomatically.

"You could say that," Harry said, shrugging his shoulders a bit. "But it's fine, really. I've got Ron, Hermione and Neville. It doesn't matter, really."

"Know that I already spoke to them," McGonagall urged. "But it's not always easy to talk sense into someone who is – quite frankly – blinded by fear."

"They're idiots, really," Harry blurted out. "Sorry, Professor," he then added quickly. "What I meant to say is that I'm used to dealing with people who can only see what's right in front of them. They'll realise they're wrong eventually. Until the next big thing happens, of course."

McGonagall hummed thoughtfully. "Somehow, it is always you, isn't it?" she said. "Well, if there's nothing else, I suppose we can end this detention. I believe you've learned your lesson, haven't you?"

Harry chuckled. "Very much so, Professor," he agreed.

"Hurry along then," McGonagall said, removing the tea set with a wave of her wand. "Truth be told, I don't trust Mr Weasley to behave without Ms Granger and you around. And since she's at the library…"

"Duly noted," Harry said. He picked up his bag and with a cheery goodbye, he left the Transfiguration office to head back to his dorm which, luckily, wasn't all that far away.

It was still reasonably early. Curfew hadn't come yet and so not all of the Gryffindors were back in the tower. Hermione, whom Harry knew would stay at the library until the very last moment, hadn't returned yet. Neville and Ron hadn't either. But then, Harry was overcome with worry. Neville and Ron were practising spells and were probably fine since they had each other. But Hermione was by herself in the library. Something that he should have thought of before. Someone had already disappeared there so for Hermione to go there by herself – if that is what she had done – was pretty stupid.

Cursing himself for his thoughtlessness, Harry dropped his bag on his bed before rushing out of the tower.

"Be back in time for curfew!" The fat lady shouted after him but Harry didn't respond.

By the time he arrived at the library, his fast pace had turned into a straight-out sprint. Every second that went by solidified the worry in his mind. But when he was about to rush through the door, he ran head-first into the person he was looking for. Hermione fell ungraciously on her bottom.

"Ow!" she exclaimed. "Harry, what are you doing? What's wrong?"

"Sorry," Harry gasped with his remaining breath, extending his hand for Hermione to take. Merlin, but he was happy to see her. "I was worried about you being here by yourself."

"By myself?" Hermione echoed. She accepted Harry's hand and allowed him to pull her to her feet. "Harry, don't be daft. I do talk to some of the people in my Arithmancy class, you know? We tend to study together." Hermione gestured to a table somewhere behind her where five other people sat, listening in to their discussion.

"Oh," Harry said sheepishly. "I suppose I should have asked. Really, I'm sorry."

Hermione sighed. "It's fine," she said. "You were only worried about me. And hey, now you can escort me back to the tower!"

Harry chuckled. "I suppose that's true. In that case –" he proffered his arm in a comical fashion. "May I take your arm?" he said mock-haughtily.

Hermione chuckled and playfully hit him in the shoulder before taking his arm. "Very well, good sir," she replied, trying to imitate a snooty way of speaking but failing miserably.

* * *

Back in the tower, Hermione used one of her rare breaks to battle Harry in a game of Wizard's chess. She was more on Harry's level but ten moves in, he could already see that he was losing terribly.

Curfew had now come and gone and Harry was becoming more and more anxious about the fact that both Ron and Neville had yet to make an appearance.

"Stop fretting, Harry," Hermione reassured him. "This wouldn't be the first time he's late. And as a prefect, he's not breaking any rules."

Harry wanted to tell her that that was the least of his concerns when he caught Hermione biting anxiously on the nail of her thumb. Of course, she was as worried as he was. Harry sighed and moved his knight in striking distance of Hermione's queen. She didn't even see it and simply moved one of her pawns in response.

After another half hour went by, Harry was really getting worried. Dean and Seamus sitting in the corner, throwing him angry glances did not help his mood in the slightest. If they would just go back to their room…

"That's it," Hermione said, getting up from her seat. "I'm going to talk to Professor McGonagall."

Harry nodded numbly and watched her go. McGonagall's rooms weren't far away. They were practically next door.

"Finally done in with Weasley, did you?" Seamus hissed. "What, did he discover the truth or something?"

"Shut your mouth, Finnegan," Harry snarled.

"Or what?" Dean challenged.

"For someone who seems to believe I've been behind these disappearances, you're not being very clever about it," Harry said dangerously. Dean shut his mouth with a click and looked at Seamus in horror. "What? Didn't think that far ahead, did you?" Harry said angrily, taking a step towards the two boys. "Say one more word – one more – about what I supposedly did to Ron, and I _will_ make you regret it."

Seamus scoffed. "You would try something in the tower?" he asked. "I don't believe it. That's why you did in with Weasley while he was away, didn't you? He just –"

Before Harry fully realised what he was doing, his fist collided with Seamus' jaw, sending him sprawling to the ground. Feeling somewhat detached from himself, Harry watched as Seamus brought a hand to his face and stared at Harry in shock. Dean walked in a wide arch around Harry to get to Seamus and help him back to his feet.

"And what is going on here?"

McGonagall appeared in the entrance with Hermione next to her. Her stern gaze swept over the three fighting boys and softened when she reached Harry.

"Never mind that," she huffed. "This is not the time for shenanigans. Mr Finnegan, Mr Thomas, go up to your room."

Despite the fact that they had slept in the common room these past couple of nights, they didn't argue with McGonagall. Casting furtive glances over their shoulders, they hurried up the stairs and disappeared inside the dormitory. This left only Harry and Hermione, the latter of whom already looked distraught and close to tears.

"Oh no," Harry whispered.

"I'm afraid it is as you fear, Mr Potter," McGonagall said. "I scoured the Hogwarts grounds as thoroughly as I was able. I'm afraid that I sense no trace of either Mr Weasley's or Mr Longbottom's magical presence."

While the delivery of the news was blunt, McGonagall's expression showed her very real concern and helplessness. She made a move to put a hand on Harry's shoulder but then decided against it.

"I will report this to the… headmistress immediately. I am so very sorry." McGonagall sighed, glanced at Hermione one last time and walked out of the common room.

Harry didn't find it in him to reply. He felt numb. Even when Hermione flung her arms around his neck and started sobbing into his shirt, it was all he could do to slowly wrap his arms around the crying witch as he tried to process what had just happened.

His best friend was gone. Ron, who had been there with him through everything, was gone. Neville, whom he only just started to get to know. Gone. And all because Umbridge didn't think it necessary to restrict the students' movements after classes. Why was everyone still allowed to go wherever they pleased as long as they obeyed the petty new rules that had been in place? And why didn't anyone think twice about taking advantage of that? What was with this general idea people had that bad things couldn't possibly happen to them?

Finally, Harry buried his face into Hermione's bushy hair and cried as well. Without Severus, how was he ever going to get through this?

* * *

The morning went by in a blurry haze. Neither Harry nor Hermione said a lot to one another. Since it was Saturday, Harry found himself walking the corridors, just thinking about what happened. Trying to put together the pieces of the puzzle. But it was hard. His mind was murky and in a haze. He couldn't think clearly, so sick was he with worry.

"Potter!"

Still in somewhat of a daze, Harry looked up to see Malfoy standing there, smirking. He was accompanied by Montague and Harry realised that the blonde was there in the name of the Inquisitorial Squad.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry drawled, really not in the mood for any sort of confrontation. Especially not with Umbridge because that was exactly what this thing was going to end up as.

"The headmistress wants to see you," Malfoy said curtly. "Are you going to come quietly or do we need to show you some proper manners before you do?"

Harry could recognise that as the warning it was intended as.

"Fine," Harry sighed. "Do what you have to do."

Malfoy nodded at Montague and they both grabbed one of Harry's arms. As if he was planning on running away. It was preposterous, really. He was still a Gryffindor, after all. But right now he didn't feel like arguing or snapping at either of the Slytherins. It wouldn't do anyone any good.

After a small march, they arrived in the still horribly pink office that was the defence class. Harry only got some small amusement out of the fact that Hogwarts didn't allow Umbridge to take the Headmaster's office. Who knows what she would have done with the place otherwise.

The toad herself was seated behind her desk, looking decidedly pleased with herself when Malfoy and Montague shoved Harry inside. "You can leave, Mr Montague," she said sweetly. After the boy left, she locked the door with her wand, sending shivers down Harry's spine. "Mr Malfoy, Mr Potter, please do have a seat."

Harry frowned. What was going on here? Did Umbridge realise that something was up with Malfoy? When Harry glanced at the boy, he didn't see any worry but that could, of course, be his Slytherin mask covering up his insecurities.

Malfoy lazily took a seat, flinging one arm over the back of his chair and crossing his legs in a very aloof manner. In stark contrast, Harry couldn't help but sit very stiffly and still in his chair a few desks over. He could not so easily forget the things that had gone on in this room and he could only hope that they wouldn't repeat themselves with Malfoy in the room.

"Mr Potter, you must be wondering why I brought you here," Umbridge said sweetly.

_Let me guess. It has something to do with sadism and/ or some inappropriate touching._

Harry couldn't help but grab the wand in his pocket a bit tighter. At this point, there would be no way that he was going to allow Umbridge to do anything else to him. She wanted to break him? She wanted to blame him for everything that went wrong? Let her try. Harry was not going to be her scapegoat anymore. Never again.

"Mr Potter, I asked you a question," Umbridge snapped.

"I have no idea," Harry said evenly. "But I assume it has something to do with Malfoy."

"Manners, Potter," Malfoy drawled.

Umbridge clicked her tongue. "It's good to know that the purebloods, at least, know how to behave properly," she said. "As for the reason of your being here, Mr Potter, it has come to my attention that the one overseeing your detentions is no longer here."

_You only just realised that, did you?_

"Professor McGonagall is overseeing them instead," Harry was quick to argue.

"Oh, I know dear boy," Umbridge said. Her eyes flashed dangerously and her smile was predatory. "I simply thought that it was time for us to have that little get-together that we talked about before."

_Oh dear Merlin, no._

Harry glanced at Malfoy uncertainly. For a moment, he caught a glimpse of the boy worrying his lower lip which he corrected as soon as he caught Harry looking at him.

"No reply?' Umbridge asked sweetly. "No matter. Let me grab you both some tea and biscuits. Perhaps you'll become a bit… looser after a cup or two."

She chuckled hideously and disappeared into a door at the back of her office, leaving it open.

"What's going on?" Harry hissed ay Malfoy.

"Stay calm, Potter," Malfoy whispered back. "It won't take long. I promise."

Realising that the blonde wasn't about to help him out of this situation, Harry started looking around frantically to see if there was any hope for escape. There was a chance that he would be able to break through the locking spell Umbridge had placed on the door. But what if he couldn't? With the way she taught defence, it was very hard to gauge her magical strength. His eyes fell on a Gryffindor robe that lay discarded in the corner. He thought that was quite peculiar but he couldn't think about it for too long since his thoughts were suddenly disturbed by a mild pressure on his foot. When he looked down, he saw a toad. One that he recognised immediately.

_Trevor? What is he doing here?_

"Here you are." A cup of tea was placed clunkily in front of Harry. He would never willingly take a sip from whatever Umbridge had created. There was no way. He looked up defiantly but she merely smiled at him before placing a similar cup in front of Malfoy.

"You boys are on either end of the ministry, aren't you?" Umbridge said sweetly. "And I can't help but recognise how at odds you both are here at school as well. I think that –"

Harry tuned her horrible voice out. It wasn't important. No, what was important was the toad currently on his foot, sitting ridiculously still and not making a sound. What was it doing here? Neville's familiar wasn't supposed to be here in Umbridge's office. He always had his toad on him and it had been a long while since Neville had lost him. Did it have something to do with the discarded cloak? Could it be Neville's?

The memories of the weeks past started flashing through Harry's mind as he saw them in a new perspective.

Damn it. Michael Corner disappeared right after he had been caught kissing with Ginny. He had been taken away by the inquisitorial squad. And where would they have taken him?

Marcus Belby. He had been near Umbridge almost constantly, trying to get a spot in her little private army. Was he there when he disappeared as well?

Harry's hands engulfed the hot cup of tea as he kept thinking. In the meantime, Umbridge never stopped talking. She didn't even seem to care that Harry wasn't listening.

Lisa Turpin. How had he not seen it before? She has not been the only one left when Harry had gone with his friends. There had still been some Slytherins sitting at a different table. Some of them were a part of the inquisitorial squad. Damn it, it was all adding up! Why only now?

Zacharias Smith and Justin Finch-Fletchley. They had been on the Quidditch pitch. Smith had even explicitly told Umbridge and her squad that he was going to be there. And it was _there_ that they disappeared. And now Neville and Ron. Had they been caught practising spells by themselves? Had they been brought here?

Only the headmaster or a high-ranking ministry official could authorise the creation of portkeys leading to or out of Hogwarts. Right now, Umbridge was both. And only the headmaster could authorise apparition.

Things were clicking so rapidly in Harry's mind that adrenaline was starting to rush through him. He was vaguely aware of the fact that Umbridge had stopped talking.

After Neville and Ron, Voldemort only needed two more. He needed Harry. And he needed him soon.

Two more.

Him and Malfoy?

_As if I'm going to allow her!_

Harry jolted from his seat, the cup on his desk falling to the ground and breaking in half. He took a few steps forward as he reached for the wand in his pocket with every intention to hit Umbridge with a myriad of curses when he saw that she, too, had drawn her wand. The smile on her face spoke of the victory she already knew she had secured. It was as if Harry watched it all happen in slow motion. His spell would not reach. She was already forming the word on her lips. The tip of her wand was aimed at Harry's chest and he knew that he would take the first hit.

"Stupefy!"

The spell caught him completely off guard and caused him to slump over one of the desks. It had not come from Umbridge's wand but rather from behind him. His gaze was now fixed on the floor where he could see Umbridge's pink pumps walk past as she approached Malfoy but not before she bent down to pick up Harry's fallen wand.

"Well done, Draco," Umbridge purred.

_Traitor!_

"Perfect spellwork as always," she continued. "I'm quite pleased with your service."

_You double-crossing little prick!_

"I simply did my duty, Headmistress," Malfoy then said softly. "I am ready for the next step."

"Good boy," Umbridge told him. "Here. Grab this. Potter will follow you shortly."

_I can't believe I've been so blind._

There was the sound of something clinking and then, Harry couldn't feel Draco's presence anymore.

"As for you…" Umbridge said next. She pushed the cup from earlier into Harry's hand and kept her wand at the ready. "It won't do to have you arrive like this. No, the Dark Lord will want you spry and healthy." She chuckled and Harry shivered when she did.

"Ready? One, two, three."

The stupefy was lifted but before Harry could do a thing, he felt the effect of the portkey wash over him. The feeling of the hook behind his navel was accompanied by the nausea of both the jarring movement and the anxiety of what was yet to come. Whatever it was, it would not be good.

* * *

_Whew. I can't believe we made it this far. A very eventful chapter to mark the ending of what I privately refer to as 'the disappearance arc.'  
The next chapter heralds the start of the last arc which I imagine will be another ten to fifteen chapters.  
Fair warning: the next arc will contain a lot of graphic violence._


	46. Chapter 46

A big thank you to everyone who reviewed. I apologise for the cliff-hanger but there was no way around it. I'm happy to have caught so many of you off-guard, though.  
Please enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 46**

The world revolved around Harry at a sickening pace. A whirlwind of colour swept him away, breaking through the walls of Hogwarts and dragging him past borders both made by man and nature. He saw little and heard even less. His senses seemed to be working overtime while registering nothing. He knew Portkeys. Had had his fair share of experiences with them. But never before had one torn through him so badly as this one did.

And then the blur ended and the hard ground slammed against his feet. Harry collapsed to his knees from the sheer force of it and started retching.

**Deep breaths, Harry. You will need your strength. **

Severus' voice echoed through his head and anchored him. Harry wasn't sure if it was real or his imagination, but he tried to listen to it. Physically willing himself to stop his stomach from expelling more of its food contents, Harry wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He noticed he was still clutching the half of the teacup that had been shoved into his hand and threw it away in disgust. He also realised that he didn't have his wand.

What had just happened? One moment he had been in Umbridge's office, slung across a desk as a direct result of Malfoy's betrayal and now he found himself in the middle of nowhere. He told himself to breathe. Tried to ignore his chest from constricting. His heart was racing a mile a minute and he could feel the blood rushing in his ears. This was bad.

And that was when he became fully aware of his surroundings. He was not alone. All around him, students lay on the ground as if haphazardly thrown there. Their clothing was dirty and some of them seemed exceptionally pale but what Harry instantly noticed was that these were all the students that had gone missing over the year. Every single one that he had agonised over, thinking that he had done away with them somehow, was here. And now he too had been whisked away.

"Harry!"

Harry scrambled back to his feet to find the source of the voice. It had been unmistakably Ron's. His eyes scanned the small crowd with the focus of a seeker and soon landed on a head of red hair.

"Ron," Harry breathed in relief. His best friend was still on the ground, clutching at the grass as if he was trying not to fall off the earth. He was pale but when he looked up to meet Harry's gaze, a quivering smile found his lips. Neville was right next to him, looking even paler than usual. Harry kneeled next to them, ignoring the Ravenclaw nearby that was leaning forward on his knees, gasping for air.

"Ron, Neville, I was so worried about you," Harry said earnestly. "What happened to you? Where are we?"

Ron shook his head. "I know as much as you do, mate," he said. "I've never been here before. After I was taken away, I was locked up with the rest of them." He gestured vaguely towards the other students. "Though I've never seen a Slytherin in any one of our cells."

And yet, the Slytherins were here as well. Harry narrowed his eyes, glancing at the snakes with a calculating look. They had already formed a group and were talking among themselves. None of them seemed perturbed in the slightest to be here, nor did they seem to be suffering from the forced travel.

_Wait, that's not true. Malfoy is looking decidedly uneasy._

While all of the Slytherins kept glancing Harry's way, Malfoy kept his gaze steadily averted. Harry wanted nothing more than to go over there and punch the evil cockroach right in the nose just like Hermione had done in their third year. The only thing stopping him was the other Slytherins surrounding the boy and the knowledge that he didn't have his wand.

Harry helped Ron get up as he tried getting a better read on his surroundings. They were in a very small clearing in what seemed to be a vastly thick forest. The canopy of the trees was so overgrown that it blocked out all sunlight. The trees stood very tall, their trunks so wide that if two people were to wrap their arms around it, they wouldn't be able to touch each other's hands. Harry thought he heard rustling in the distance but with all the murmuring going on between the students, he couldn't be sure. He clenched his fists as he thought about their reason for being here. It was obvious, by now, that Voldemort was here. He was somewhere in this forest that Harry recognised from his visions. And with him, was Severus.

"Welcome, students of Hogwarts!"

It was Voldemort's voice that suddenly boomed through the arboreal structures of the forest. Harry tried to pinpoint its location, but the voice seemed to be coming from everywhere. Harry's scar, while throbbing slightly, was not exploding in pain so he was sure that Voldemort wasn't actually nearby. Most of the other students cowered where they sat but the Slytherins looked on expectantly.

"It is so very kind of you all to join me in this game I have painstakingly planned for you all." Voldemort laughed before explaining further. "It's a game that will last as long as you all see fit to make it. You will have to make choices. Fight one another to survive. The trials you will all go through depend on you and how quickly you decide to end it all. The rules are quite simple, really. You have to kill Harry Potter."

Harry felt his blood freeze in his veins when every single head turned to look at him. Not a single one of the gazes now locked onto him seemed to look forward to the prospect of murder. Not even the Slytherins seemed to relish in that thought.

_I guess talking about it and actually doing it are two very different things._

"Do I sense a hint of hesitation among you?" Voldemort asked cruelly. "I thought that might happen. But worry not. I have made arrangements for proper motivation. Behold!"

As if Harry were looking into a crystal ball but without the ball, tendrils of smoke suddenly engulfed the small clearing. Wisps changed into transparent shapes and soon, everyone could identify a flock of captured people all sitting in a circle. Their hands were bound to each other and their mouths were gagged.

"Mom!" Ron cried out. "Bill! Oh, no."

Other people started crying for their loved ones as well while the vision of Voldemort calmly walked past them all, his hands raised in a lazy but triumphant sort of way.

"Fear not, little ones," Voldemort purred. "Most of your friends and family will be released after you fulfil your roles in this little game of mine. But be very careful." He kneeled next to Molly Weasley and stroked her cheek with a long index finger. "If you help Harry Potter in any way, I can't guarantee that your loved ones will remain fully… intact."

Voldemort's smirk was clearly visible in the hologram and he laughed. The sound was cruel and merciless. And then, the image died.

"By now you will all have noticed that your wands have been taken," the voice of Voldemort continued. "It would, after all, not be fair if young Harry didn't even get a fighting chance, now would it? Find your wand – only take your own - and kill him as soon as you do. Only use magic to end his life. If any other way is used, you and your family will suffer for it. Though you may injure him however you like, of course."

More one-sided laughter.

"Oh, and for every other person you kill in the progress, you will get a small reward. Who knows, it might even save the life of your mother when you make a mistake later on."

_Sick bastard. _

Harry felt sick to the stomach. He took a few steps back, trying not to meet anyone's gaze.

"We will find out once and for all, Harry, just how much your friends mean to you." Voldemort drawled.

And then he fell silent altogether. A few moments went by in which people seemed to be waiting to see if more would be said. But when it became clear that Voldemort's monologue was over, most students started crying and screaming. They were throwing accusations at everyone but mostly at Harry.

"It's always your fault!"

"Why do you have to drag other people into your problems?"

"What have I ever done to you to deserve this?!"

"If you would just stop pushing You-Know-Who all the time, we might not be in this mess!"

"First Cedric and now this?"

_Fantastic. Only the Slytherins aren't rubbing this in my face._

"Enough!" Ron shouted at the top of his lungs. He rose to his feet and stood next to Harry, his posture strong. "Don't you see that this is exactly what he wants? He wants us all to fight each other. To forget that _he's_ the real enemy."

"He's got my mum!"

"Yeah, and my brother."

"My little sister is all I've got left!"

"Hey, where are _they_ going?" Hannah Abbot asked as she pointed at the retreating backs of the Slytherins. Not one of them glanced back. They gathered in a small, tight circle and Harry could only barely make out that one of them was holding an item of sorts. All Slytherins reached out to touch it and Malfoy murmured something. The next thing anyone knew, the Slytherins had portkeyed away.

There was a moment of silence and then, "They're getting their wands!"

That's when absolute chaos broke out. Everyone scrambled to their feet, their limbs flailing as they tried not to constrict with one another. People started pulling and pushing each other as they tried to go after the Slytherins. To find their missing wands.

"Come on, mate," Ron beckoned before he was off as well. But Harry had scarcely taken his first step when a familiar voice in his mind halted him.

**Stop.**

Harry was so relieved that for a moment, he almost forgot the frightening situation he had found himself in. It was Severus!

_Severus_? he thought.

**Find your wand later. Going after them right now is suicide.**

_I was so worried about you. Where are you?_

**Go east. Find water. I'll be in touch later.**

_Severus_? Harry tried but he got no more response.

"Harry, are you coming?" Ron asked but Harry shook his head as he took another step back.

"I'll go later," he said softly when everyone else was out of range. "It'll be too dangerous for me now."

"I'll grab your wand for you," Ron offered.

"No," Harry said. "Follow the rules for now. Just… stay safe, alright?"

Ron put a hand on Harry's shoulder, his eyes full of determination and Gryffindor valour. "Don't worry," he said. "We'll make it through. We always do."

_I know we will. No matter what, Voldemort is going down for this._

"I know," Harry said, copying Ron's movement. "Together."

Harry watched Ron leave, a mixed batch of emotions battling in the pit of his stomach. On the one hand, he knew that his best friend would never betray him. Not like this. He was far too Gryffindor for that. On the other hand, he almost wished that he would. If anything happened to Bill or Molly because of him, he would never forgive himself. The best thing Ron could do for now was ignore him. With that in mind, Harry thought it would be better _not_ to regroup later. Not this time.

'Go east,' Snape had said and Harry would oblige. But right now he thought it couldn't hurt to get a read on the people trapped here with him. And to find out where everyone's wand was hidden, of course. So, he snuck after the group that had had no qualms in leaving him behind.

This was not like sneaking after a wary animal. The Hogwarts students, in their fright and excitement, were exceedingly noisy. They talked loudly and the earth crunched beneath their feet. Harry didn't need to put any effort into sneaking at this point. As long as he stayed out of sight, that would be sufficient. Soon he had caught up with the group, managing to stay well-hidden in the growth that was the forest. The eternal shadows helped greatly with concealing himself, though his invisibility cloak would have been better.

"Are you sure this is even the right direction?" Zacharias Smith asked.

Marcus Belby scoffed sounding almost offended. "Of course I am," he said. "Didn't you see the marks their portkey left on the ground?"

"No," Smith replied, still sounding congenial. "What of it?"

Belby clicked his tongue. "Of course," he said. "I should have realised I was speaking to a Hufflepuff. You know how a portkey leaves a distinct mark on the ground in the direction its passengers were taken?"

_It does? Huh, today I learned. _

"Right," Leanne Wenlock replied, coming to the rescue of her housemate. "He knew that, of course."

"Then you understand why I'm absolutely sure that this is the right direction," Belby finished matter-of-factly.

"You don't need to be so condescending about it," Adam Pickering said.

"No one asked you," Belby spat at the Gryffindor. "So keep your commentary to yourself."

Ron put a hand on Pickering's shoulder and shook his head. A smart move, Harry thought. Ron had to realise that everyone was on edge. After all, everyone present had something to lose here. And it was very improbable that everyone's loved ones would make it out alive.

_That doesn't mean I'll let them kill me, though._

Harry felt bad for the treatment the Hufflepuffs were already receiving. It was ridiculous to him how they were deemed the leftovers. The house that would take in everyone. Even the Ravenclaws that thought of themselves as oh-so-smart, couldn't see the value of the house of the badger. But Harry could.

The path they followed went slightly downhill. Well, Harry called it a path but there wasn't much path to be seen. This forest was unlike any other he had ever encountered. The trees seemed less, organised, so to speak. The greenery was thick and damp. Every step you took was a tiring one. One that expended a great deal of energy Harry wasn't sure he could afford to waste. But, above all, everything was unnaturally quiet. The inhabitants of the forest surely were very aware of the new intruders. But most of the students were not aware of _them_. They didn't realise just how dangerous this silence was. They didn't feel the staring eyes in their backs. Harry did, though. He could only hope that most of those eyes belonged to normal creatures rather than the fantastical kind. Because without a wand, he wasn't sure how he would fight off any of those. Not that he would be a match for even a pack of wolves at this point.

It took less than an hour before their destination became visible. "Look over there!" Neville shouted. Harry winced at the loud noise that might attract even more forest creatures and ducked further down so as not to be seen. His gaze followed Neville's outstretched finger towards a very high and steep monolith. It might have resembled a pillar if it didn't look so naturally formed. It was small in width and could probably support about ten people at a time at most. All eight Slytherins were currently standing at the top of the structure – which was about thirty feet tall – and were bent over, picking up something off the ground. When Zabini raised his wand triumphantly, Ron cursed vehemently under his breath.

_Let no one ever accuse the Slytherins of playing fair._

"Get back," Neville hissed. "Before they get it in their heads to attack us."

Surprisingly, no one opposed to that. Even the haughty Ravenclaws chose to follow that particular order. Harry supposed they were smart enough to recognise the danger they were in. Sure, the Slytherins would be outnumbered, but they were armed.

Thinking that they would be here for a while, Harry lowered himself to the ground as quietly as he could and supported his upper body with his elbows, carefully watching the scene in front of him play out.

Oddly enough, the Slytherins did not take this opportunity to attack and slaughter all of their fellow students. They used their portkey to get down before tossing it to the floor. It was probably useless at that point. They did linger and stare at the others for quite a long while, their wands grasped firmly and a smirk on most of their faces. But Harry couldn't spot any murderous intent. Not in anyone.

_Slytherins are not inhuman, Harry. But they are better at hiding their emotions._

Harry shook his head inwardly. Severus had been right at that time. Well, wasn't he always? And Harry could see it as plain as day in this moment. The Slytherins were acting all cocky and in your face, but in actuality, they didn't look forward to attacking a fellow student any more than the Hufflepuffs were. And for a moment, Harry felt sorry for them. At least Ron's family would never fault him for refusing to kill anyone outright.

"Let's leave to find some supplies, guys," Malfoy then said. "We can deal with these idiots later." Harry clenched his jaw as slow-burning anger raced through him. If Malfoy caught fire at that exact moment, Harry didn't think he'd bother to put it out.

"Yeah," Zabini readily agreed. "It's no fun to beat them unarmed, anyway."

The other Slytherins wholeheartedly backed up that statement and so, without further hesitation, they turned their backs on their enemies and walked off, some of them roaring with laughter. It all sounded incredibly fake to Harry. He wondered, for a moment, what _their_ punishment would be for failing to kill Harry. It might be even worse than what was in store for the rest of them.

"Alright," Kim Sheringham said. Harry recognised her as one of the less obnoxious Ravenclaws. "We lucked out this time. But we'd best get our wands before they come back."

"You're right," Lisa Turpin said thoughtfully. Another Ravenclaw. The first student that had disappeared. She looked exceedingly pale and thin and Harry wondered where she would find the strength to battle this forest. "We should devise a plan. How do you suppose we'd best scale that plateau?"

"Well –"

"Come on, guys!" Ron interrupted loudly. "This is nothing. Let's just climb this thing and get it over with."

He spat into his hands before testing out the strength of the first bits of protruding rock. When he seemed satisfied with their sturdiness, he lifted himself and started climbing. Collin Creevey was quick to follow and Neville, though a bit more hesitant, started climbing as well. Lavender and Adam were the last to follow but soon all five Gryffindors – Harry didn't really count in this particular scheme – were climbing the very dangerous rock pillar.

Harry would have slapped his forehead had he not been worried about revealing himself. As much as he took pride in his house, he had to admit that they really acted rashly at times. If they fell down now, they could easily break their necks.

_At least take some sort of safety precaution, guys!_

The Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws seemed to agree with that assessment since none of them started climbing.

"As I was saying," Kim said, now ignoring the reckless idiots hanging above her head. "We should gather sharp rocks and vines. Strip some bark from the surrounding trees as well. I know how to make some equipment that should keep us from falling and breaking our necks. It won't be perfect, of course, but –"

"On it!" Zacharias Smith said easily. Harry smiled at the Hufflepuff's can-do attitude. He and his fellow Hufflepuffs got up, dusted their robes and started looking for the required items. Harry watched in amazement how the group had already split up into three houses and were now acting in accordance with their dogmas.

"AAH! Bloody Hell!"

Harry looked up just in time to see Ron dangling a few feet above from one hand. He was struggling to find purchase with his scrambling feet but finally found it.

"Alright, Ron?" Lavender asked from just a few inches below him.

"Course," he yelled, breathing just a bit more heavily. "Something like this won't stop me."

Harry shook his head as he carefully watched Ron's slow going ascent. Yes, the Gryffindors were bravely facing the literal uphill battle without any sign of doubt. If they were worried about the hostages or their upcoming battle, they didn't show it. Instead, they climbed up, one step at a time, taking every obstacle in stride. Harry smiled. If he hadn't been the target of today's sick and twisted game, he might have been up there with Ron. Or would he? He wasn't entirely sure. He did prefer the Slytherin approach when it came to facing the unknown but joining _their_ group would be the stupidest thing he could possibly do at that moment. But being a Gryffindor? Not really a grand idea right now, either.

The Ravenclaws were sitting in a semi-circle, the five of them debating among themselves on what knots to use, how to drill holes in some flat stones without endangering their natural integrity and at what angle they should approach the pillar.

Harry watched them for a while, not making much sense of what they were saying. While the Ravenclaws were being a bit smarter about their approach, they weren't actually doing anything. They could sit there all day arguing and comparing theories, but it wouldn't get them anywhere in the long run. Harry might not have as much book smarts as them but he knew that it would take very specific knowledge to make it through this ordeal alive. After all, not only the other students were a danger here. The forest itself would be the greatest danger of all. Harry wondered if even the Ravenclaws fully understood that.

Now, the Hufflepuffs. They were showing promise. What they lacked in active knowledge and bravery, the made up for with their hard work and fierce loyalty toward one another. Already, they were quick to gather all that was requested. At the same time, Harry noticed that they were keeping a close eye on one another, not one of them straying too far in their quest for vines and bark. They looked after each other and Harry couldn't help but feel admiration for those Hufflepuffs. Sure, the Gryffindors also had each other's backs. And even the Slytherins were a united front but Harry knew that when it came to the snakes, that it was a lot of pretence. As for the Gryffindors, well, as quick as they were to overreact in bouts of hot-headedness, they were quick to turn their backs on their friendships. Never permanently so. Oh, no. But Harry couldn't help but wonder that if he had been a Hufflepuff, his friends might not have turned their back on him even if they didn't believe that he hadn't put his name in the Goblet of Fire.

When the Gryffindors were at the halfway point, stopping for a moment to catch their breaths, the Hufflepuffs had returned with the supplies. The Ravenclaws, without even thanking the Hufflepuffs for their efforts, instructed them on how to combine them into the tools they would need. Harry watched the exchange with a frown. The Hufflepuffs didn't seem to mind being given these tasks and Harry wondered if they even realised that they were being used by the Ravenclaws. Marcus Belby, in particular, seemed awfully reluctant to get his hands dirty. He sat primly on a large rock while the Hufflepuffs worked. All he had done was draw a schematic in the sand using a long stick.

By the time the Gryffindors had started climbing again, the equipment was finished.

"Marvellous," Michael Corner remarked as he held up the braided vines, checking them for their sturdiness.

"Acceptable," Belby remarked pompously. "If I had more time, I could probably think of a better design but with things being what they are…" he trailed off, leaving the rest of the sentence to people's imagination. Michael glanced at the Hufflepuffs somewhat awkwardly but didn't say anything.

"I say that half of the Hufflepuffs go up with Half of the Ravenclaws," Susan Bones said.

Belby snorted. "And how do you figure that? These things were our idea."

Harry frowned and grit his teeth. He never had much contact with Belby but, by Merlin, he really felt like socking the prat right now.

"And _we_ did the actual work," Susan said, crossing her arms defiantly. "I don't trust you not to run off after you have your wands so I'd rather we make this fair."

_Way to go, Susan!_

Harry smiled to himself as he watched the encounter. Hufflepuff was not to be underestimated. The other Hufflepuffs nodded and stood beside Susan to form a united front. Some of them were holding pieces of the equipment that they were not likely to relinquish without some form of agreement. For a moment the Ravenclaws seemed at a loss as to what to do.

"Take my hand, Neville!"

Harry looked up to see Neville struggling to make it to where the others were. But Ron was extending his hand towards him, waiting patiently for Neville to take it. "You can do it, mate. Go for it."

Neville didn't hesitate much longer. He grabbed Ron's hand, who helped him in getting a firm grip on the rock wall and with a barely noticeable nod towards each other, they carried on. Harry just hoped they wouldn't fall.

"Fine," Belby said begrudgingly after diverting his attention away from that impromptu distraction. "Three Ravenclaws and two Hufflepuffs go first with the others staying on the ground to keep hold of their vines. Afterwards, the next batch goes up."

"Sounds like a plan," Susan said, extending her hand towards Belby. Belby shook it and Susan smiled. They soon sorted out who was to go first and after tying the first people up as safely as they could, the climb began.

They had a much easier way of it than the Gryffindors did with the help of their friends and crafted equipment. But the Gryffindors still reached the top first.

"Finally!" Harry heard Ron shout. He chuckled. It seemed that Ron had definitely taken up leadership of the Gryffindor squad.

_Go figure._

There was a hasty scramble for their wands but the Gryffindors didn't come down yet. Harry imagined that after expending as much energy as they had, they could use a small break. The first batch of Ravenpuffs had already reached the halfway point and didn't seem as tired yet. Marcus Belby had been among the first to go up but Susan Bones had stayed down. She was the one keeping a hold on Belby's vine rope and Harry wondered if she might be thinking of dropping him.

_Such a Slytherin thought._

But Susan did no such thing. The Ravenpuffs reached the top safe and sound. There seemed to be some difficulty in retrieving their wands seeing how it was getting a bit crowded up there but in the end, everyone got what they came for without pushing someone over the edge. Literally. Gryffindor and Ravenpuff descended at the same time, though Ravenpuff descended much quicker since now all they had to do was push back against the wall and trust their handlers to keep them steady as they quickly went back down.

"Next," Belby growled. Susan sweetly handed him the vine and the second group of Ravenpuff's started climbing. They had an even easier time of it because the first group had fastened some vines to the very top of the plateau.

_Maybe I can make use of that when they're all gone. How convenient._

For a moment, it seemed as if Padma Patil would fall when she slipped and cut open her hand, but  
Lisa Turpin held her steady. They reached the top and got their wands as well. By the time they touched solid ground again, Gryffindor had also made it down, panting heavily from the exertion while the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs still had energy to spare.

_Goes to show how slow and steady wins the race._

"Thanks," Belby told Susan and Harry wondered if some sort of alliance had formed there. The Gryffindors still lay panting on the floor but Collin seemed to be watching the exchange with much interest.

"Now to get rid of all of this." Belby raised his wand and whispered a quick "Incendio."

"No," Harry hissed to himself as he watched the convenient vines go up in smoke.

"What are you doing?" Ron exclaimed, finally righting himself. "Harry could have used those!"

"Exactly," Belby said matter-of-factly. "You heard you-know-who. Harry Potter is our enemy. I will not inadvertently help him get his wand and risk my father getting hurt."

"It wouldn't have been against the rules, you prat!" Ron argued loudly. Harry wondered vaguely how many predators could hear him right about now.

"You don't know that!" Belby replied angrily. "Not for sure. And I'm not taking any chances."

"I can't believe you're willing to play his game," Ron growled.

"And I can't believe you're not," Belby growled. "I know Potter is your friend and all, but I believe I saw at least two Weasleys tied up at You-Know-Who's feet. Is Potter worth their lives? All of their lives?"

Ron frowned but didn't respond.

"He'll find a way to save them," Neville replied in his stead.

Belby scoffed. "That's now how this works, Longbottom," he said haughtily. "Real life is not like the fairy tales. Potter is not a storybook hero. He is not invincible and will not be able to defeat the darkest wizard of our time. Can't you see? You-know-who is _playing_ with him. With all of us!"

"I don't care what you have to say," Neville said, sounding braver than he normally was. "I believe in Harry. He _will_ come through for us."

Harry couldn't help but feel enormously touched by Neville's words.

_How can he have so much faith in me? We've only recently started to get to know one another._

"Have it your way," Belby said. "But don't come crying to me when your parents end up dead."

For a moment, Neville raised his wand ever so slightly. Harry didn't even think Belby had noticed. But then common sense seemed to win him over and Neville simply turned his back on the haughty Ravenclaw. "Let's go," he said. "We'd best be gone here by the time the Slytherins decide to hunt us down."

"Yeah, let's," Belby said as well. "Looks like we have some Potter hunting to do."

Harry's blood turned to ice. But then he grinned. Harry hunting. He knew this game. And he was rather good at it.

* * *

_And so the new arc begins. I would love to know what you all think about it. Please do leave me a review to tell me what you think.  
__See you on Friday!_


	47. Chapter 47

_Hi everybody! Is it Friday already? Goodness, me. Thank you all for your many reviews. Most of you have understood where the inspiration to this arc has come from but hey, I own up to it! I thought it would fit nicely into the... thing, I have planned. This chapter will give you a sense of the truly horrific things that are about to happen. Enjoy!  
_

* * *

**Chapter 47**

It took a while before Harry stopped hearing the sounds of his fellow students. They had been everything but quiet but the worst of them had been the Gryffindors. Stomping through the forest as if they had nothing to fear. Harry shook his head to himself as the last boastful shout coming from his best friend was swallowed by the cold air. It would be a while before they saw each other again, he knew. And for now, that was for the best.

Getting his wand now seemed like a good plan but with all the time that had passed by, it was nearly nightfall. Soon, he wouldn't be able to see anything anymore, especially in a forest as thick as this one. Harry wondered if he would even be able to see the moon at night. Climbing a slippery monolith in such conditions was suicide. Not even a purebred Gryffindor would attempt such foolishness. And sticking around might be dangerous. Who knew what creatures lurked around clearings such as this one. No. He had to move. Keep moving. Find supplies.

_Go east. Find water._

He remembered the words that Snape had whispered in his mind, probably endangering his own life as he did so. Easier said than done, though. Without a clear view of the sky, how was he supposed to find his way? Did Snape expect him to climb one of the monstrous trees? He wasn't a bad climber but that went a bit far even for him.

_Don't be an idiot, Potter. Moss only grows on the north side of the tree._

Harry chuckled to himself. Right. He remembered that day. Careful to stay as silent as he could, he started inspecting some tree trunks. It didn't take long for him to find one covered in moss. Well, the one side, that is.

_Perfect. So if that is north…_

Harry pointed himself to the east and started walking. He walked as quietly as he could, shifting his weight only when he was sure that nothing would crunch underneath his feet, and made sure to check every tree he passed just to check that he was still going in the right direction. For now, he didn't see any sign that any of the other students had come through here.

He was losing daylight, or whatever was visible from it, at an alarming rate. He was anxious to go faster, to find anything before this first day was over but he knew that that was a bad idea. He could not forget that this was a hunting game. And _he_ was the prey. So he reined himself in and kept moving at the pace he knew he could keep silently. Unfortunately, he could only keep going for another hour or so before the pitch-black had engulfed the entire forest, leaving nothing to guide Harry forward on his path.

He had to stop for the night, he knew. If not, he could easily break something. He found a tree that grew somewhat uphill and sat against it, wrapping his arms around his shoulders. He was cursing himself for not gathering any firewood earlier and by now it was too late. There was no way for his eyes to get used to this sort of darkness. There was no light to permeate it.

So he closed his eyes and tried to sleep, jerking awake every time he heard an animalistic cry or the shifting of the forest ground.

* * *

Nothing had actually attacked him that night but Harry was sure that he had been watched. At one point he had woken up abruptly only to hear the sound of something very close by hastily skittering away. It had sounded small and Harry wondered if it had been something he could have eaten.

He was so very tried and imagined that he could have easily slept some more if it wasn't so damn cold in this forest. The absence of sunlight was already starting to get to Harry. His stomach growled but there was nothing to eat. It would be alright, though. He had gone much longer without food before. He would just have to make sure to keep an eye out for anything edible today. That, and try not to be eaten himself in return.

Sighing to himself, he started walking again.

_When we get back, I'm asking Dumbledore to add some survival classes to the curriculum._

Harry's pace was painstakingly slow since he was trying to make as little noise as possible. The fact that there was no real path to follow didn't help either. Every few steps he needed to disentangle himself from a wayward root or a prickly vine. Birds chirping in the trees was the only sound in the forest that Harry could possibly identify as happy. Though his lack of sleep only made him want to throw his shoes at the noisy creatures. Best he didn't, though.

Harry sighed as he stilled his trek for the umpteenth time to empty his right shoe again. It was beyond him how it seemed to fill up with all sorts of rubble no matter how carefully he walked. Dumping the contents back where they belonged, he smacked his lips, thinking he could really use some water right about now.

It was very difficult to know how the day was progressing in a wood as dense as this one. Harry felt that he had been walking for many hours when the general greyness of the area began to turn into a more dense blackness. Harry groaned knowing it wouldn't be long now before he was engulfed in complete darkness. And the temperature hadn't exactly gone up either.

He wondered how the rest was doing but quickly tuned that thought out. He couldn't worry about others right now. He had to think about himself. Securing water seemed to be becoming impossible for today since he had, once again, very little daylight left and he wondered how much longer he would be able to go on like this. His lips were getting dry and his saliva felt and tasted like mud.

_Just a bit longer. One more hour. _

When he passed a particularly knobbly-looking tree, his eye fell on a strange mound of dirt. It was odd. Almost as if something had been digging around here. He narrowed his eyes as he kneeled and carefully started wiping away the sand. It was moist and cold but was moved easily. After a few seconds, Harry was able to reveal a rucksack. And judging by its weight, it was full.

_What the hell?_

He glanced around to check if there was anyone nearby but when he didn't see or hear anyone, he carefully opened the rucksack. He nearly laughed out loud when he saws the contents. There were provisions, potions, bandages, a few water flasks and even a couple of blankets.

_Severus knew this was here. That's why he sent me east._

Harry realised that his message had meant two separate things. 'Go east' didn't necessarily have anything to do with 'find water'. Unfortunately, the water flasks were empty. But, this was already fantastic. Harry didn't have to wonder why these were here. He had no doubt that these supplies had been waiting for the Slytherins to find them. The only reason that they didn't, yet, was probably because none of those pampered purebloods knew how to navigate in the woods. Harry grinned. At least he had that going for him.

But that meant that he had to get away from here. And fast. If the Slytherins had gotten directions to this place, they would arrive here sooner or later. And Harry didn't want to be waiting for them here when they did. He would need to find another place to sleep. He swung the rucksack over his shoulders and started walking.

That's when some sort of vision cut through his mind. It was not the same kind that happened when Voldemort invaded it. No, instead he could feel the familiar warmth of his mentor behind it. And yet, it was sharp and quick. Almost as if it was unintentional. All Harry could make out was the face of Evan Rosier, grimacing in pain as his hand clutched the cloth on his shoulder. Harry saw the blood on his hand when the man retracted it but then the vision was cut short.

_What the hell. Severus?_

But there came no response and Harry knew that he couldn't wait for one so he forced the strange image to the back of his mind.

Daylight was now gone, and Harry navigated solely by running his hands along the trunks of the trees he passed. He was now going south. As he recalled, none of the students had gone in that direction. Not yet, at least. He stumbled a few times but didn't fall.

Now that the louder students were no longer in the vicinity, the forest seemed to be coming alive. Harry heard the sound of crickets chirping in the night, the sporadic hooting of owls and even the howling of a few wolves. This didn't worry him too much. Wolves would likely not harm him. Not if they had eaten. Harry hoped they had. But just in case, he tried to find a tree with thick branches and tried his best to climb a few feet high. The darkness didn't help but he managed. When he thought he was high enough to keep wolves from grabbing him, he carefully laid down with his back against the broad trunk and the rucksack underneath his head. He would not be able to start a fire tonight. But it would have given him away anyway. Instead, he donned himself with two blankets to try and keep warm and closed his eyes.

Oh, how he hoped that he wouldn't have a nightmare tonight. He didn't want to know what his screaming might summon.

* * *

Harry awoke to the sound of people bickering. His eyes opened widely as he remembered where he was and what was going on. He glanced around him to see how close he was to being discovered but when he didn't see anyone, his heart stopped trying to beat out of his chest.

"Argh! Are you sure you even know how to read a map?" It was a girl and she spoke with venom in her voice. She sounded angry.

"Look at it yourself if you don't believe me." Harry recognised Malfoy's drawling voice.

_Annoying, pompous little backstabber. Well, the Slytherins finally made it here. That's quicker than I would have thought._

"It's supposed to be right here," Malfoy said, panic tinging his voice.

"Well, it's not, is it?" That was Zabini. "Do you think we've been double-crossed?"

"Hm, maybe," Malfoy sounded contemplative.

_That's karma for you._

"Either way, we need to figure out what to do and soon."

"I'm _already_ starving!" It was the same girl from before. Harry thought it might be Daphne Greengrass but he wasn't sure. "Get me some food _now_, Draco."

"Get it yourself," Malfoy snarled. "I'm in the same position you are. It's not as if I can conjure fruit tarts out of thin air."

"Does anyone here know anything about surviving in a forest?" Zabini asked. There came no reply.

_Of course, you wouldn't. I doubt any of _your_ parents ever dropped you in one just to see what you would do._

Harry smirked as he continued to listen. It was amazing what things one could pick up if they only tried. He could hear the fear in Greengrass' voice, despite her fake bravado. He was aware of the stern and confident tone in Zabini's voice, despite him having no experience in the forest and he was sure that he heard some hesitation in Malfoy's voice, however odd that might seem. No, the Slytherins were not doing well.

Harry couldn't help but feel a twinge of pity for them. Especially for Tom and Theo. It was clear to him that they didn't want to be here either. They were just pawns in a game played by kings, ready to be sacrificed at a moment's notice. Harry knew what that felt like.

"I guess we have no choice." Harry recognised Crabbe there, though the boy very rarely spoke complete sentences. "We'll have to find and kill Potter as soon as we can."

Someone scoffed.

"Be my guest, Vincent," said Pansy Parkinson. "Though he probably has his wand by now."

"So?" Vincent replied. "There's eight of us and only one of him."

"You really believe he hasn't joined his squad of adoring Gryffindors?" Malfoy asked. "Don't be daft. He probably got the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs working for him as well. We're the ones outnumbered here."

"That's nothing but an assumption," Zabini said. "Even if he is with his friends right now, you can be damn sure that he won't be for long. Not when they realise the price they have to pay."

A couple of them laughed but Harry could hear the bitterness in their voices. He shook his head when he realised they even needed to put up an act among each other.

"Come on," Malfoy then said. "Let's get out of here. There's no point in lingering."

There were some murmurs and then Harry heard the retreating footsteps of the stealthy Slytherins. At least _they_ knew how to walk quietly in a forest. Somewhat.

When Harry was sure that they were gone and that no one else was nearby, he opened some of his food supplies. The contents of the brown package were not very appetising. But they would do. Harry ate an apple and a few handfuls of nuts before deciding that he'd best not eat too much. He carefully put the rest away, wrapping the package in his used blankets and stuffed it all back into the rucksack which he then hefted onto his back.

_So thirsty._

He hadn't found water yet and he hadn't had anything to drink for a while now. Travelling through a thick forest was by no means easy and he had already used up a lot of his reserves. He needed to find water and he needed to find it fast. Since Greengrass had been whinging about hunger rather than thirst, Harry deduced that they had already found some water. But where?

It was then that his mind was temporarily taken over by an image. It was a very unclear one, as if Harry was watching the television screen while static covered most of it up. Through the static, he could see trees and landmarks. A makeshift road somewhere. He thought he could hear the sound of streaming water coming closer as the image kept moving and shaking as if someone was holding a camera while walking. But it didn't frighten him. He could feel the familiar touch that was Severus' mind. The flowy, secure tendrils that had reached out to him many times before. It put him at ease.

And then it was gone.

It had been scrambled, unclear and very out of focus but the image had still put a smile on Harry's face. Despite everything, he still had at least one person on his side. And it was someone that he had shared nothing but mutual dislike with not even a year ago. And now look at them.

_I'll make it through this. He'll make sure of it._

To anyone else, the message would have been useless. But Harry had been in Severus' mind plenty of times. He knew what details the man found important and he knew what the glimpses he had been able to show had meant. Making sense of the clues, he started walking, as stealthily as he could, thinking that after he found water, he was going to have to try and get to his wand.

As he walked, he came across some of the admittedly vague landmarks Severus had shown him in the vision. He snorted when he saw the speckled mushrooms…

_If a dunderhead like you can't identify which mushrooms are or aren't poisonous, you'd best stay away from them entirely._

Had Severus remembered? He probably had. His mind was strong and his memory just so. Heeding Severus' past advice, Harry left the mushrooms alone but followed the direction in which they were growing.

After passing a raven's nest and a non-whomping willow, Harry was starting to hear the sound of water. It was very distant but it was unmistakable. Merlin, but he was thirsty. Still not throwing caution to the wind, he struggled onward. He kept listening for sounds that would indicate the presence of others but he didn't hear anything. Only the sound of rushing water becoming clearer.

And then, there it was. A river. It didn't flow very strongly and it was narrow, but the water seemed fresh and oh so cool. Harry carefully lay flat on his belly and started crawling the last part of the way. He was no fool, after all. As the only student here that was unarmed and the only one here with some sort of bounty on his head, he needed to continue to lay low. He could trust no one. Except for Ron and Neville, of course.

He drank his fill, relishing in the coolness of the water. He had never tasted anything more wonderful in his life. Not even that one time that Severus had made him eat blueberry pancakes after a long period of hunger at the Dursleys. After he had drunk his fill, he started filling the two flasks that had been in his rucksack.

_Alright. Almost there. Just one more minute…_

"I think we ssssshould eat it."

Harry whirled around so fast that he almost fell into the river. When he saw what had managed to sneak up on him, he still very nearly did. It was a gigantic, three-headed snake. The left head was looking at him as if he was a tasty snack while the middle head seemed to be zoning out, staring into the river.

"You fool. Look at him," the right head hissed. "An unwasssshed human ssssuch assss him will give usssss indigessssstion."

The left head hissed at the right one. "I will eat him if I want to," it said sharply, snapping at the right head with its jaws.

"Excuse me!" Harry then interrupted. The creature, which he knew to be a Runespoor thanks to Hagrid's lessons, seemed to be a fairly intelligent being. Harry hoped above all else that he might be able to reason with it. "I'm a friendly human. And I'd rather not get eaten."

"Oh my!" The middle head now spoke, clearly ecstatic. "It speakssssss in our tongue. What a fantassssstic creature. Perhapssss we could keep it?"

"You fool!" The right head snapped. "Humanssss make awful petssss. Do you even know what it eatsssss?"

The middle head lowered itself somewhat until it was at Harry's eye level. "Do you enjoy mice and ratssss, little one?" it asked. "Or do you prefer a rabbit?"

Harry raised his hands defensively. "I'm not a pet," he hissed politely. "I'm a wizard."

"What'ssss a wizard doing in our foressssst?" the right head asked. "Up to no good, are you? Planning to ssssteal our eggsss for your bubbliesssss?"

"I promissse that I don't want your eggssss," Harry hissed placatingly.

_Though Severus would probably love to ransack their nest._

"I'm here to help my friendsssss and fight a bad wizard."

"It hassss a noble caussssse," the middle head hissed. "What a tragic thing for a youngling to have to do. Fressssh out of the egg and already fighting the darknesss." It bobbed its head tragically. "Devassssstatingly wonderful."

"Sssstop adoring the human," the right head chided. "It will try to take our ssssskin asss ssssoon asss we trusssst it."

"I promise that I won't."

"I believe you, youngling," the middle one said. "And I wissssh to help you."

_What, just like that?_

The left head made a sound that sounded a lot like a scoff. "Really?" it hissed. "I think it would be better to sssstart hunting down our next meal. A group of deer are grazing nearby and the wind issssss right for uss to sssssneak up on them."

The right head hissed a laugh. "We can't posssssssibly catch up with deer," it said snarkily. "In casssse you didn't notice, we have no legsssss."

"It's okay," Harry said, carefully stuffing the water flasks into his rucksack. "I'll manage on my own."

"You sssscared him off," the middle head said accusingly.

"It'sssss not too late to eat him," the left one added.

The right head hissed aggressively. "Let'sssss not try and eat a human that speakssss our tongue. Remember what happened with the lassst of thossse we saw."

Now the three heads suddenly seemed to be in agreement.

"Right," the left head said. "We sssshall not eat you, youngling."

"But I wissssh you all the bessst in your quest," the middle one said.

The right one glared at him. "You really sssshouldn't be out in the open like thisss. Think, youngling. Anything can sssee you ssstanding here."

_You're the ones who are keeping me occupied here._

"Thanks for the advice," Harry said carefully. "I guess I'll leave you to it then."

"Farewell, youngling," the middle head said as Harry started to walk away. "I hope that we may sssspeak again sssoon."

Harry really hoped they didn't. While the middle head was friendly enough, the other two were less so. The right one was rather rude but the left one was decidedly vicious. It irked Harry to think that the creature had likely encountered Voldemort at one point but didn't think it wise to ask the runespoor about that particular encounter. For all Harry knew, the creature reported to the dark wizard.

_At least it didn't eat me._

The runespoor had been right, of course. Dilly dallying here was dangerous and a rookie mistake. So he quickly made his way back into the thick forest, thinking about the encounter he just had. So this forest, wherever it was, was inhabited by fantastical beasts as well. Harry thought it unlikely that the runespoor had been the only one. That made it all the more imperative that he got to his wand as soon as possible.

_I doubt I'll be able to chat my way out of an encounter with an inferus, after all._

Another vision, much like the one before, invaded Harry's mind. A death eater he did not recognise was uttering some disgusting and broken profanities whilst blood poured down his chin_. _The vision was cut short when the man asked for Severus.

What the hell was going on? Why did he keep getting these images? did it have anything to do with his connection to Severus? Harry didn't think they reached him on purpose but couldn't be sure. Either way, he could not stand still now.

He backtracked the way he had gone yesterday, now using the moss-covered trees to head back west, where he knew the monolith carrying his wand stood erected. It didn't escape his notice that there were blunt tracks all over and he shook his head. Did no one understand how to move in a forest? If he had been half as obvious as his fellow students back in the day, Dudley and his gang would have caught him each and every time. When afraid for one's life, it was surprisingly easy to learn new skills quickly. The trek took not as long as it had before since Harry had already carved a semi-path in his travels from the previous day, but it still took him a long time to reach his destination. One of his two flasks was empty again by the time he reached the clearing where they first landed.

He kept listening for signs of others and heard nothing until he finally reached the monolith again.

" – look for a way out of this place." That was Ron. "I don't care what _he_ wants us to do. It would be stupid to listen."

Harry carefully hid behind a thick tree to look at the scene playing out in front of the monolith.

"We have no food and no water aside from the dredge we can conjure," Marcus Belby said simply as he argued with Ron. "And we all know that water conjured with aguamenti can only get you so far. We have no idea just how vast this forest is. But if I am correct and this is where I think it is, I can tell you right now that we are royally screwed."

"We're wizards," Ron snarled. "Between the lot of us, we should be able to think of something."

"I _have_ thought of something," Belby replied.

That statement triggered Ron. Out of nowhere, the pureblood wizard raised his fist and punched Belby square in the nose as if he were a common muggle. The Ravenclaw stumbled and fell backwards because of the unexpected impact. The other Ravenclaws simply backed up to give him the space to fall. Harry realised that the Hufflepuffs were no longer there and wondered what they were doing.

"You are not setting a trap for Harry," Ron snarled at Belby. "Over my dead body."

_Crap. It has already begun. Is that what the Hufflepuffs are doing? No, they can't be._

"Exactly!" Neville added. His glare was one of fury and Harry couldn't help but feel pride swell in his chest when he looked at the once shy boy.

"Harry is one of us," Creevey added. "I can't believe you're not in Slytherin, wanting to sell him out as quickly as you are." Harry couldn't help but notice the awkward glance shared between Adam and Lavender.

"It's only the smart thing to do at this point," Belby growled, scrambling to his feet. "Or aren't you taking You-Know-Who's threats seriously?"

Ron chuckled wryly. "My mum would kill me if I turned on Harry to try and keep her safe," he said. "So would Bill."

"And what about you?" Belby asked harshly, inclining his head towards Neville. "Haven't your parents suffered enough? You'd put them through even more pain and misery?"

"We'll put _you_ through some of that pain if you don't back off right now," Lavender said angrily as she came to Neville's defence. Harry regretted not speaking to her more. While she had never really caught his interest, here she was, standing up for her housemate.

"Looks like not even your own housemates like your plan very much, Belby," Adam Pickering said. Harry smiled. How often he had played chess with that boy. At least against him, he could still win sometimes.

_I would never want to be in another house than Gryffindor._

When he looked at the other Ravenclaws, he saw that Pickering was right. They were keeping remarkably quiet and were staring at anything but Belby. Clearly, they didn't exactly want to chase down Harry but perhaps they felt compelled to follow Belby simply because they shared a house.

Belby seemed to notice this as well. "What's wrong with you?" he asked. "How can you not see the logic in my plan?"

"We can," Padma said carefully. "But there's more to life than logic and wit, Marcus."

"Yeah," Michael agreed. "Harry may not be our friend but he's our ally. I'm not about to throw that away just because it seems to make sense at this moment."

Harry did his best to ignore the doubt in Michael's voice but he knew it was there nonetheless.

"We don't have all the pieces of the puzzle yet," Lisa Turpin added. "There's no way to make a sound judgement yet so let's try not to act rashly."

Belby looked around one more time but then noticed that he was clearly outnumbered. "Fine," he mumbled through gritted teeth. "Let's try to think of another plan, for now. But if we can't come up with a better solution, we really should consider going after Potter."

"We'll cross that bridge when we get there," Michael said. As the Ravenclaws retreated, Michael glanced at Ron, winked playfully and then joined his housemates.

"Idiot," Ron mumbled and Harry grinned.

"Thanks for that, guys," he said as he emerged from the treeline. "I knew I could count on you."

"Harry," Ron said in surprise, careful not to raise his voice too much. "Where have you been? And where did you get that rucksack?"

Harry chuckled. "It was just lying around somewhere," he said. "Apparently it was meant for the Slytherins."

"Those cheating bastards!" Lavender exclaimed. Adam mumbled something under his breath.

Harry shrugged. "What did you expect from a game devised by old Voldemort?"

"That's a fair point," Ron said. "Hey, I suppose you didn't get your wand yet?"

"No," Harry admitted. "I was too busy trying to stay alive. There's a runespoor prowling around nearby, you know?"

"Yeah, we actually saw some thestrals not too long ago," Neville said. "Looks like this forest is far away enough from muggles to house magical creatures."

"That does not bode well for us," Adam said thoughtfully. "We must be in the middle of nowhere."

"Forget about all that for now, Harry," Ron said. "Go on and get your wand. I'll stay here and cast a cushioning charm just in case you fall."

Harry grinned. "You're a good pal, Ron," he said. "Thanks for always having my back."

"Of course!" Ron said easily. "We all know the golden boy would be nothing without his trusty Ron."

"I really wouldn't be," Harry said. He bumped his fist with Ron's before looking up at the monolith and starting his perilous climb upwards. It really wasn't as hard as it seemed and that surprised Harry. Sure, he wasn't a bad climber per se, but free-climbing a giant hunk of rock as big as this one should have been more difficult than it was to him. He had a not-so-small inkling that Ron, or another one of the Gryffindors, was helping him with magic. In a different sort of competition, an honest one, Harry might have felt a bit peeved that his friend was supporting him like this. But this was a life-and-death situation and Harry could use all the help he could get. Getting his wand was now the most important thing he could do.

The cushioning charm wasn't even necessary. Before long, Harry had reached the very top and was now staring down at a large stone slab with twenty-four long carvings in it. All were empty except for one. Harry smiled when he saw his wand fitting snugly in the carved crevice. He had only been missing it for a few days but without it, he just felt naked. Powerless. It was not the same as when it was simply locked away like at the Dursleys. No, this time it had truly seemed out of reach. Until now.

Harry grabbed his wand and easily dislodged it. A surge of power ran through his lower arm and he knew that his wand had missed him as well.

More vividly than before, another vision penetrated Harry's mind with such force that he had to do his best to keep standing. He saw a Death Eater he recognised as Corban Yaxley just stare into the distance with a look of shock on his face. A moment later, he dropped rigidly to the ground, his lifeless body a clear indication of his fate. Harry wasn't sure where the knowledge came from but he knew, without a doubt, that the man was dead. The vision ended once more and Harry stared down the large pillar. A Death Eater just died. At the exact moment that Harry had gotten his wand. But why?

But Harry couldn't dwell on it for too long. There was a crack that sounded like thunder even though there hadn't been a flash of light. The sky darkened dramatically and for a moment, the wind was blowing so strongly that Harry had to crouch down to keep himself from being blown off the monolith. And then there was the distant sound of hissing. It sounded like the drizzle of a distant rain or the hissing of a very angry snake.

And then _he_ spoke.

"My, my," came Voldemort's dangerously soft voice. "It would appear that the blood traitor didn't exactly understand the rules of my little game. Tsk tsk. More's the pity."

"I'm not afraid of you!" Ron bellowed from below.

_Oh no. Oh crap. What's he doing?_

"Was I ambiguous when I explained the rules?" Voldemort asked, his voice coming from everywhere again. Harry vaguely wondered how many people were able to hear him. Eager to stop whatever was going to happen, Harry pocketed his wand and started to climb down, careful not to make a wrong step in his haste.

"You were not to help Harry Potter in any way. And here you are…" A cold wind howled through the trees. "Assisting him."

"Show your face, you coward!"

_Ron always has been stupidly brave. _

Harry kept climbing down, astutely aware that the task was now much harder. Whatever Ron had been doing earlier to help him was now completely gone. Talking to Voldemort probably took all of his focus right now.

Voldemort laughed cruelly. "Do I detect a hint of fear in the voice of the valiant Gryffindor?" he mocked. "I will give you one chance to redeem yourself. Our dear Harry is completely defenceless right now, as you've surely noticed. Hit him with a lethal curse and I won't harm your mother."

"Go to hell," Ron said without hesitation.

_Damn it, Ron._

"Ron!" Harry shouted. "Just do it, man!"

Whatever Ron threw at him, Harry was sure he would survive it. All the redhead would need to do was aim for an arm or leg or something. But he couldn't just refuse. Not when Mrs Weasley –

"Pretend that we're training for the DA," Harry yelled. He had stopped climbing and was now hanging awkwardly off the side of the monolith.

"Don't be daft," Ron growled. "I will never become a slave to the likes of V-Voldemort!"

Harry was momentarily in awe by Ron's continued valour and support. He glanced down to see Ron's reddened face stare up at him. The boy seemed angry.

"Now get down here before he finds someone else to shoot you down!"

"You've had your chance," Voldemort snarled. The humour in his voice was gone and so was the falsely soothing tone. In its stead, the same hologram from earlier appeared, showing a small version of the group of captives Voldemort had at his disposal., Their bodies were all outlined with an eerily blue aura as if they were shining.

"Leave them alone!" Harry yelled. "You sick psychopath!" He couldn't take it anymore. He took out his wand and jumped the last part, casting a cushioning charm to lessen the blow. When he landed, he rolled over his shoulder and was vaguely surprised to notice that he hadn't damaged himself. Ron hadn't looked away from the hologram and Harry came to stand beside him.

"Molly Weasley," Voldemort purred. "Your son has broken one of my rules."

Mrs Weasley, to her credit, stared straight into Voldemort's face, glaring at him the way only Molly Weasley could. "Good!" she spat. "I couldn't be more proud."

Harry noticed Ron clench his fists and wanted to put his hand on his friend's shoulder but thought better of it. After all, this was somewhat his fault.

"Leave her alone," the miniature Bill said. "Take me instead."

"I will," Voldemort said dismissively. "Eventually. But for now, she will do."

He took out his wand and pointed it at Mrs Weasley's left arm. He flicked it once and suddenly a spell slashed through Mrs Weasley's upper arm, just below the shoulder, severing the limb clean off. The Weasley matriarch screamed in pain as blood poured out of the lethal wound.

Harry froze in shock, staring wide-eyed at the cruel conductor of these games. His blood ran cold and he lost all feeling in his tongue. Despite everything he knew about Voldemort, he hadn't expected _this_ to happen. Not so simply. So sudden.

"You monster!" Bill cried out as he struggled against his bonds

Another flick of Voldemort's wand and the blood stopped pouring when a small flame burned the wound's flesh. New cries of agony escaped Mrs Weasley's lips as she lay panting on the floor. Ron remained eerily silent throughout the entire experience though his eyes were fixed on the scene as it played out.

"I trust that you now realise the damage your errors can cause," Voldemort said silkily. "Don't make the same mistake again."

And then the hologram vanished along with Voldemort's voice. The wind's settled but the mood only darkened.

"Ron –" Harry began but he didn't know what else to say.

"Just leave me alone for a while, alright?" Ron said monotonously. Harry took note of the trembling of Ron's clenched fists as well as the paleness of his skin. Disbelief and anger coursed through Harry's own veins but he could only imagine what Ron had to be feeling at that moment.

Harry thought it best to give his friend some space. "Of course, Ron," he said. But he wanted to say so much more.

_We'll get that bastard for what he's done. I will kill him if it's the last thing I do!_

* * *

_As always, I'm eager to find out what you all think. Please leave me a review._


	48. Chapter 48

_Thank you all so much for reviewing! I don't have much to say here except to brace yourselves. Enjoy!_

* * *

**Chapter 48**

Ron hadn't spoken to Harry for the remainder of the day. Harry had shared his blankets with everyone when they went to sleep but Ron hadn't accepted one. The next morning, they shared the provisions they had on them. Harry noticed that the Gryffindors had found some as well and was happy to trade some nuts for some berries. Then they decided to travel north to try and get out of the forest. But after several hours of travelling, Harry felt more and more anxious about the fact that none of the Gryffindors was talking to him. Not even Ron had said a word since the previous day and was fastidiously avoiding Harry's gaze.

Not because he was mad at his best friend. Harry knew that for certain. But there was something keeping his mind occupied and Harry knew exactly what that might be.

Molly Weasley.

The Weasley matriarch, as strong and brave as she was, had told Ron just how proud she was of him. A sentiment Harry was still secretly jealous of. But what had happened after was nothing to be proud of, Harry realised. And he wondered if he had been in Ron's shoes if he would have broken. A part of him thought he might have.

The other four Gryffindors didn't meet his gaze either. They sometimes whispered among themselves but quieted down every time Harry strained to try and catch what they were saying. It made it only the more obvious that they were talking about him. But how could Harry fault them for that? They were worried, and understandably so. Voldemort had taken a loved one away from all of them. Harry was the only one who didn't have to worry about a helpless prisoner, no matter how much he cared about Mrs Weasley and Bill.

_Severus is there as well, though._

Thoughts of Severus were enough to occupy Harry's mind for a while as well. The death eater in disguise may not be a prisoner but Harry couldn't help but worry for his safety. The man hadn't known about this plan. Not really. He would've warned Harry if he had. The other option was too inconceivable to consider and Harry was not about to question his loyalties. No, the ones behind this had been Voldemort and Umbridge. Harry had yet to find out if she was a Death Eater or simply a lacky but, either way, she would pay when he got out of here. And he _would_ get out.

Harry sighed when Neville stomped on another group of twigs which snapped loudly underneath his shoes. The Gryffindor squad ploughed through the forest as if they were a bunch of hippogryphs. Harry had tried casting a silencing charm a couple of times but that didn't prove to be as useful while on the move. Besides, it made Harry unable to hear potential enemies as well.

They had been walking for hours and were yet to find a single sign of life. Harry thought they might be going in circles but Ron refused to let Harry lead them. Harry was starting to contemplate forcing them to listen to him when he felt Severus' presence in his mind, the soothing calm numbing his frayed nerves.

**You have to get away from them.**

Harry frowned.

_They're my friends. I trust them with my life._

**Your trust is misplaced. Soon, they will turn on you.**

_Severus, I know the way you think but I can't do that. I'm not abandoning them. Especially not after what happened._

**It would be kinder if you did.**

Harry blinked, wondering what Snape meant by that. What was Voldemort planning?

_What do you mean?_

**I don't have long. Just get away.**

Severus left Harry's mind before he got a reply. Harry stopped walking automatically as he wondered about the Potion Master's words. Would staying here endanger his friends? Would it really endanger _him_? He glanced at Ron who was still moving forward, angrily shoving aside the branches that obstructed his path. He was already suffering and Harry didn't want to add to that. On the other hand, he didn't stand much of a chance alone.

_They can't help me anyway. Not if I want their family to be safe._

"Harry." Neville, who made up the rear of the small group, had stopped and was now watching Harry intently. "Is everything alright?"

Harry gulped and shook his head. "I can't stay here," he said quietly. "I can't be forcing you to help me. Your family –"

"They would be proud to be helping you out," Neville said importantly. "I know that my parents would never want me to give in to what Voldemort wants. No matter what he threatens us with."

Harry frowned and looked at Neville. The boy's parents had already suffered so much in the first war. It was entirely unfair that they would have to suffer even more. And for what cause? Harry still didn't know what Voldemort hoped to achieve with all of this. If only Severus would be able to tell him more.

Harry sighed and locked eyes with Neville. "The others might not agree," he said. "You saw what happened back there. I can't put Ron through that again. Or anyone else for that matter."

Neville chuckled softly. "You may be the leader of the DA, Harry, but out here you can't tell us what to do. We make our own path."

"Oy!" Ron yelled when he realised that some of the group weren't following. Harry cringed at the loud noise. "What are you waiting for? We don't have all day!"

"Sorry!" Neville yelled back. Harry simply held up a hand in apology. Not that keeping quiet would help very much at that point, but still. As Harry and Neville sauntered back over to the rest of the group, Harry heard more twigs snapping. Only these had not been broken by any of the Gryffindors.

His legs froze and he instinctively raised his wand.

"Harry?"

Harry put his index finger to his lips to signal for silence before straining to hear more. He heard the rustling of the trees, the wind whistling between the leaves and the occasional sound of birds calling.

Another snap.

The birds went silent and Harry swallowed thickly. Whatever it was, it was no student. It wasn't human. It sounded… heavier than that.

Snap. Snap. Snap.

No. Those weren't twigs or branches. It was something else. Something familiar from a long time ago. The sound seemed to be coming from all over and Harry got the distinct feeling that they were no longer alone. Whatever it was, it had already seen them.

The sheen of a glistening carapace. A few large, hairy legs.

Huge black eyes.

"RUN!"

Harry bolted from his spot, grabbing Neville's arm as he rushed to join the rest of the group. The clicking and snapping he had heard before was becoming clearer. Closer. And Harry knew what it was. Ron's eyes widened, his sorrow momentarily forgotten as freight took its place. His worst nightmare, Harry knew, was descending upon them.

"Get your wands out!" Neville shouted. He was running with Harry now, no longer needing the motivational pull on his lower arm so Harry let him go. There was hissing and snarling and even more clicking. And then the Acromantula Harry knew was hiding in the shadows leapt, and tried to pin Harry's arm with its pincers. Harry dove to the ground as Neville leapt aside, causing the gargantuan spider to land clumsily behind them. But it soon righted itself at the same time Harry did and crouched down for another assault.

"Incendio!" Harry shouted, aiming his wand at the spider. It screeched as it caught fire but tried to attack nonetheless.

"Harry!" Adam shouted. Harry glanced at them to see that three more of the beasts were now surrounding the other Gryffindors, their sharp mandibles clicking in an almost rhythmic fashion. Ron couldn't possibly get any paler and looked about ready to pass out.

_Damn it!_

"Incarcerous!" Harry then shouted. The flaming ball of spider was quickly felled, now bound by magical rope. It screeched loudly as its body was consumed by fire but Harry didn't stand idly by to watch it die. Ron needed him.

A few more feet and Harry and Neville re-joined their Gryffindor squad.

"Ron," Harry breathed. "Raise your wand."

But Ron didn't. Instead, he stared at the approaching spiders, big as large dogs, with his mouth half-open. Harry growled and moved to stand in front of his best friend.

_I'm going to have a chat with him when this is over. Honestly, he defies Voldemort no problem, but when a spider comes along he's no braver than Vernon._

"Aguamenti!" Lavender yelled and a jet of water sprouted from her wand, dousing one of the spiders with the cold liquid. It didn't do much other than anger the oversized arachnid.

Harry was about to cast another incendio but because of his position shielding Ron, he was now closer to the spiders than the rest of the Gryffindors were. Unfortunately, he couldn't cast again before his left arm was gripped by the sharp pincers of one of the beasts. Harry screamed out in pain, unable to stop himself.

"Reducto!" Neville yelled, stopping another one of them from approaching. Three of its legs were lost in the blast and it made a pitiful sound as it seemed to try and make itself smaller. But that only lasted a moment because it soon jumped again, aiming for Neville's throat.

"Petrificus Totalus!" Harry shouted, aiming his wand at the spider that was about to maul Neville. His spell struck true and the spider landed on its back, its five remaining legs petrified at odd angles that could make anyone shudder in disgust.

"Argh, get off me, you damn beast!" Harry shouted. He kicked at the spider's belly but that didn't do him much good.

"Protego!" Adam yelled when the last spider tried to attack him. When it bounced back against the shield, he followed it up with a quick Stupefy but missed, stunning an innocent tree in the process.

"Step back, Adam!" Lavender yelled when the spider made to grab his legs. Adam did so and it missed, the spider's mandibles clicking violently in the process. Blood trickled down Harry's arm and he was starting to feel woozy because of the pain. He tried to block it out, aiming his wand at his adversary with every intention to take it out when someone else did it for him.

"Ventus!" Ron yelled. A strong current of wind erupted from his wand and upended the Acromantula away from Harry. It landed on its back, its hairy legs scrambling in the air as they searched for purchase and failed.

Harry hissed when he saw the mangled flesh of his left arm but didn't dwell on it. He angrily cast the cutting curse several times at the downed enemy. The beast was cut to ribbons and soon there was only the slight twitch of a few legs left to imply that this creature had ever been alive.

"Incendio," he then heard Collin shout and soon the last spider went up in flames with a pained screech. The sound went through bone and marrow but Harry couldn't care less. It was over. For now.

"Spiders," Ron said, his voice quivering awfully. "There are spiders everywhere."

Harry sank to his knees, clutching the wrist of his left arm tightly as if that would stop the pain.

_I really hate those spiders._

"I really hate those spiders," Ron said frightfully as he sat down next to Harry with a tired plop. Harry chuckled. Great minds and all that.

Ron gasped. "Your arm," he said. "It's injured."

"Oh, is it?" Harry deadpanned. "I didn't even notice."

"Crap," Neville said as he too kneeled next to his friends. "This is bad. I only know the spells to treat minor injuries. Nothing like this, though."

"I'll manage," Harry said.

"Don't be ridiculous," Neville huffed and Harry wondered when exactly the scared, cowed boy had become someone overflowing with valour and leadership. It was odd to say but the boy seemed to flourish in the face of adversity. "I just need to find some dittany."

"Aren't those spiders venomous?" Ron asked, his voice unnaturally high.

"Yes," Harry replied. "But the venom won't kill me. It will only weaken me for a while."

"That's fine since you won't be moving with that injury anyway," Neville said easily.

Harry shook his head. "We can't stay here," he argued.

Neville actually snorted. "Stop being difficult," he said. "We'll go and find some dittany and you'll be right as rain before you know it."

"It's not safe," Harry said. "I'll be fine without it."

"Look around you, Harry," Neville said. "No one is safe. Not until we get out of here."

Harry had nothing to say to that. He knew Neville was right so he ended up nodding his consent. "Let me help you look, at least."

Ron rolled his eyes. "You just said that you'd be weakened for a while," he argued. "So don't be daft and rest. Here, let's get you seated underneath a tree." Ron lifted Harry's uninjured arm and shimmied his shoulder underneath.

"I can walk!" Harry said, knowing that he sounded like a petulant brat.

"I know you can," Ron said easily, still helping Harry to the tree where he'd be at least a little more out of sight. The two spiders that had been on fire were slowly starting to burn out and Harry suddenly realised how daft it had been to set fire to them in the middle of a forest. Ron sat down next to him as the others disappeared into the woods. Neville's stride was quick and confident but the other three seemed reluctant to go. Harry bit his lip thinking about what that could mean but tried to divert his attention to Ron.

_At least he's talking to me again._

"Do you think there's more of those?" Ron asked.

_Probably._

"I don't know," Harry said, not wanting to scare Ron unnecessarily.

"This is a strange forest," Ron sighed. "I'm not sure it's entirely natural."

As Harry glanced around him, he could understand what made Ron say that. The darkness that hung thickly underneath the tree canopy was suffocating and felt eerie. Almost constantly, there were loud noises to startle every one of the trespassers and not once had Harry found some sunlight to light his way. The only way to see that the night turned into day was when the deep black turned into a visible grey. Dark and dreary without end. In the end, he just nodded.

"I can't believe I'm saying this but I wish I was studying for my O.W.L.'s right now," Ron sighed. "I probably wasn't going to do all that well but anything beats sitting here getting eaten by spiders."

"No one's going to get eaten by spiders," Harry said soothingly. His limbs were starting to feel heavier and his head lolled slightly to the side. He could move if he wanted to but it would take him great effort.

"Says the one whose arm was nearly bitten off," Ron pointed out.

_Touché_

"It's kicking in, isn't it?" Ron then asked. "How long will it last?"

"I'm not exactly an expert on the matter," Harry said, sounding somewhat drunk. "Why don't you ask Hagrid?"

"He's not here, remember?" Ron said, bringing his knees up. "At least, I don't think so."

"No," Harry agreed. "But I did see a runespoor."

"I know you did," Ron said placatingly. "Did you have a nice chat with it?"

"It talked to itself more than it did to me," Harry said easily.

"They'll do that, won't they?" Ron said knowingly. "Narcissistic creatures, those runespoor."

"I hope I see it again," Harry said dreamily. He could feel his eyelids become heavier. "The middle head was very nice."

"Harry?" Ron asked. "Harry, don't fall asleep. Harry!"

But Harry couldn't help it. His eyelids were far too heavy. His mind too muddled. Trying to drown out the urgent tone of Ron's voice, he found solace in the darkness. The pain of his arm was no more.

* * *

He was angry. No, he was furious. He was ready to tear people's intestines out just to throttle them with them. His lip twitched as he surveyed the scene around him.

Twenty-three of his loyal death eaters had started this ritual on Voldemort's side. They had taken their places on the stone platform around the monolith. But now, only twenty-one remained. The runes and crevices were filled with the blood of the forest's current invaders, and the monolith was slathered with the thick, red substance. Already he could sense the weakness that oozed from his weaker followers as they stood rigidly, facing the pillar in a circle. He would love to strike one of them down right now to abate the anger coiling inside of him but he needed the ritual to succeed. First, Yaxley had dared to die without his permission and now Travers had joined him, the ungrateful wretch. And his other followers were starting to look tired and weak. Voldemort snorted.

"Severus," he hissed, turning to face his loyal Potions Master as he brewed. The concoction in his cauldron was bubbling intensely, the steam emanating from it reeking of cloves and bubotuber pus. "How much longer?"

"Half an hour, my lord," Severus replied without missing a beat. "I'll get started on the next batch right after."

"See to it that you do," Voldemort growled. "I need them all to stay on their feet for as long as possible. Should they falter too soon, you will take their place."

"It is my greatest honour to serve you however you wish, my lord," Severus said evenly, his tone never wavering. Voldemort smirked. A follower as loyal as Severus Snape was hard to come by. He would never allow him to partake in a ritual as dangerous as this one. He had no one else that could make the potions he so desperately needed. No, there would be no disembowelling this one either.

The pathetic whimpering further away reminded Voldemort of his prisoners. Slowly, he turned his head to look at them, a grin splitting his face open when he saw the fear and pain in their eyes. There was no greater compliment to his power than that. They knew who he was and feared him for it. They knew that they could do nothing.

Lazily, he walked over to the ones with the flaming hair, his feet never making a sound as they shifted on the forest floor. Nagini slithered faithfully behind him, her tongue tasting the damp earth. His cold eyes met those of Molly Weasley. She was awake again, leaning against her son as if trying to keep herself balanced. Harry smirked. He imagined the loss of a limb could tilt one significantly off-kilter.

"How are you feeling, Molly?" he asked, his voice almost soothing.

The Weasley matriarch merely narrowed her eyes at him. Voldemort liked that spunk. That raw courage. But he would soon get rid of it.

"Leave her alone," the younger Weasley growled, wrapping a protective arm around his mother.

"I can't do that, Bill," Voldemort said, feeling a twinge of anger. "You see, your younger brother has once again disobeyed me. He doesn't seem to appreciate the rules I set for everyone." He shook his head in dismay. "He clearly wasn't raised right."

"Good," Molly spat, her voice filled with hate. Voldemort couldn't care less. "I hope that he defies you until the very end."

"Do you?" Voldemort asked teasingly. He now kneeled, his wand loose in his hand as he looked the Weasleys in the eyes. "You realise that his defiance means your pain. And, of course, eventually his own death."

"Over my dead body," Molly snarled.

"What limb would you be able to miss the most, Bill?" Voldemort asked, choosing to ignore Molly for now. "An arm or a leg? As a curse-breaker, I imagine you'd rather miss the leg, wouldn't you? And I am quite merciful to those who ask. So –" Harry smiled widely. "What will it be? Shall I take your wand arm? Or do you have a request for me?"

"Please don't," Molly said before Bill could reply, her voice certain but tinged with fear. "Take from me what you will but leave my son alone."

Much to Voldemort's delight, Bill covered his mother's mouth with his hand, holding tight so she wouldn't be able to utter another word. The struggling woman wasn't able to break free.

"A leg," Bill said through clenched teeth. "Please take my leg as punishment."

Tears flowed freely from Molly's eyes as she looked at Bill pleadingly, but the young Weasley kept his stern gaze on Voldemort. It was something the powerful wizard could appreciate, this bravery. If only this family of purebloods had not ended up becoming the muggle-lovers they now are. He would have liked to add these fighters to his arsenal.

"Very well," Voldemort said. "I will grant you your wish, being the merciful lord that I am. I will take your leg."

Molly's muffled cry barely made it through Bill's hand, clenched around her mouth but Harry could still revel in its glory. He then looked to Molly's left, where Frank and Alice Longbottom sat, smiling serenely as they watched the death eaters perform their duty. There was no fun to be had with them. Their minds had long since been broken. But they could still feel pain. And they could still scream. At least the Longbottom boy would still realise that he was being punished. Picking dittany to heal his nemesis might be even more appalling than the Weasley's rescue had been. But it was only his first transgression so maybe he could be just a bit milder for him.

Voldemort laughed, his anger already forgotten. He longed to see what the children would do next.

* * *

Harry awoke with a start to see Neville tending to his arm with the dittany he found. He was a bit confused about the fact that he had gotten another vision. Those usually came to him at night. He supposed that losing consciousness like that was what caused his shields to collapse. He gritted his teeth as he remembered what he saw.

The other Gryffindors had returned as well and were now sitting around Harry as they waited for Neville's plant to take effect.

"No," Harry groaned. He tried to sit up and noticed that the venom had nearly run its course. "No, stop helping me."

"Sit still, Harry," Neville mumbled. "It's almost over."

Tears fell from Harry's eyes as he glanced between Ron and Neville.

"What happened?" Ron asked. "Was it him? Did you see anything?"

"Yes," Harry said, ignoring the confused murmurs coming from the three that were out of the loop. Neville was too busy tending to Harry's wound to say anything. "He was angry at you."

Ron paled and clenched his jaw. "What did he do?"

"Nothing yet," Harry said. "But…" he trailed off, not wanting to say more. "Neville stop. You shouldn't be doing this. It will-"

Smoke erupted from his arm as the wound healed itself a bit. It now looked a few days old and felt a lot better. "Damn it," Harry muttered.

Neville shot him a strange look. "What's the matter?" he asked. "Do you have a fever? Are you delirious?"

"We need to get out of here," Harry said.

_What's the point? They're not the ones he's coming after. It's their families._

But Harry really didn't want them to see. He wanted to be able to stop at least that. He was dreading another one of Voldemort's holograms because they might as well break his friends. Frantically, he tried to get Ron and Neville to understand that they needed to go but they merely forced him to stay down.

And then it happened. This time, there was no hologram. With an anti-climactic puff of smoke, two boxes appeared right next to the Gryffindor group. One was rectangular and very large whereas the second one was rather small and square-shaped. They were wrapped in red paper and adorned with big golden bows. A tag hung on each one.

"What're those?" Lavender asked, her curious voice quivering with fright.

"Don't open them," Harry pleaded, realising that his voice was trembling. "Please, just leave them. Let's get out of here."

"You know what's in there," Ron said. He glanced at Harry and gasped when he saw his fearful expression. He clenched his jaw again as he looked at the boxes. He reached out.

"Stop!" Harry shouted.

"I'm just going to read the tags," Ron snapped. He was angry, Harry knew. But he would be much angrier once he saw what was inside.

Ron read the tag tied to the large box and swallowed. "It says: To Ron. From Bill."

_That cruel bastard. That monster!_

Ron then checked the tag on the smaller box and frowned before glancing at Neville.

"What does it say?" Neville prompted.

"To Neville," Ron said softly. "From mum and dad."

Neville's gaze darkened considerably as his attention was now fully drawn to the small box. Ron started tugging at the ribbon of his.

"You don't have to open it," Harry said, hoping against all hope that Ron would listen. "That's what he wants."

"Yeah, well, it's what I want too!" Ron yelled. "I want to know what 's in there but you're sure as hell not going to tell me, are you?!"

_I can't._

Harry shook his head. "You know what it will be," he said. "You don't need to see it."

"Yes I do," Ron said grimly before undoing the ribbon entirely. He tore off the paper with one violent jerk to reveal a plain cardboard box. The undersides of it were moist and coloured red.

"Oh no," Lavender gasped, covering her mouth with both of her hands.

Ron found his resolve and opened the box. He stared into it for a couple of moments before speaking. "I see," he said bitterly before closing the box again and wrapping the ribbon around it to keep it shut. He cast a furious glare in Harry's direction before turning away, hugging the moist box to himself.

"Harry," Neville said after he watched Ron's unboxing. "What's in mine?"

"I don't know," Harry said honestly. "I really don't. But… it's probably something similar."

Neville nodded and seemed to hesitate for a moment before opening his box as well. His eyes widened in shock when he saw what was inside. For a long moment, he seemed unable to speak but then he got up and kicked a tree in anger, screaming as he did so. Whether it was in anger or pain, Harry didn't know. It was probably both. From his vantage point, he couldn't see what was inside the box but he got up from where he was sitting and went over to close it up again. But then he saw it.

Two hands of different sizes clasped together. Both of them wore a wedding ring.

* * *

_A/N: I'd like to make something clear right here. Yes, Voldemort has gruesomely maimed his hostages two chapters in a row now. But I promise that this is not supposed to be such a frequent occurrence. I can't promise that it won't happen again but I do promise that he'll lay off for a while. This needed to happen for a very good reason and while violence will continue to be the general theme of this arc, the hostages will be left alone for now. I just wanted to make that clear before you all think I'm merely writing a slaughter-fest._

_On that note, I would still love to get your feedback. Please let me know what you thought and I'll see you on Friday._


	49. Chapter 49

_So we meet again! It occured to me that there's a bit of a divide between the people who love this new arc and those who can't get into it. I can completely understand if you don't appreaciate this new path we've taken and for those who have lost interest, I just want to say thank you for the reviews in which you have very respectfully voiced your opinions. For those still sticking around, a big thank you as well! I don't regret this direction at all. I've been working towards it from the start and, as an eternal angst-lover, I'm looking forward to what's to come._

* * *

**Chapter 49**

There was a lot of angry murmuring going on. And Harry was not a part of it. He wasn't allowed to be. Sitting a few feet away from the five Gryffindors that had been flung into this situation as helplessly as he had been, he simply watched them as they bickered. At one point, it looked as if the whole thing would turn into a fistfight when Ron got into Adam's face but Neville had calmly stepped in between both boys and shook his head.

Harry's mind was still reeling from what had happened. His fists were clenched as he stared at the two latest victims of Voldemort's cruel mind games. The two boys that were his friends. If they hadn't been, they never would have put themselves in the position of helping him. If they had been more aloof about everything like the other three Gryffindors had been, the Weasleys might still be intact. And Neville's parents…

Harry started when Neville met Harry's gaze for a moment. There was pain in those eyes but also acceptance and Harry couldn't help but wonder about this hidden strength.

They were arguing about him, obviously, but Harry was arguing with himself about the same subject.

On the one hand, he didn't want to endanger anyone any more than he already had. Staying with the Gryffindors would only cause them more harm. Voldemort didn't joke around. That much was for sure.

On the other hand, Dumbledore had always said that Harry's greatest strength was love. Harry knew that that love translated into friends that stood by him no matter what. With Hermione still safe at Hogwarts, Ron and Neville were the only people here he could really call his friends. They were his strength.

_It's a double-edged sword, that's what it is._

Harry sighed and ran his fingers across the bark of the tree behind him as he considered his options. He really only had two. Stay or leave. But the truth was that he already knew what he was supposed to do. He had tried to tell Neville before but the boy had refused vehemently saying he would make his own choices.

_Well, so will I._

He flickered his emerald green eyes skyward and frowned when he only saw the dark green leaves of the trees. Not a speck of blue was to be seen. He pushed himself away from the tree and took a few steps towards his housemates who were still squabbling. They didn't seem to be able to reach a consensus anytime soon and, quite honestly, there was no time for all of this.

They all quieted down when Harry approached them. Neville and Adam met his gaze easily but the others refused to even look at him, staring at the ground. Harry felt a twinge of regret when his best friend seemed to be turning away from him but he understood. The redhead had a lot to process. He was still clutching that bloody box to his chest and Harry wondered if he hoped that the leg could be reattached.

Harry doubted it.

"Yeah, I'll be going now, I think," Harry said, trying to sound casual about it.

"Harry," Neville started but Harry held up his hand.

"I remember what you said earlier," he told Neville. "But I too make my own choices. And I honestly think I will be much harder to spot when I'm by myself. Walking around with a troop of Gryffindors might only alert the Slytherins to my whereabouts."

Neville seemed sceptical and crossed his arms. "It's not your fault," he said. The silence of the other four made Harry aware of their thoughts on the matter. He smiled bitterly.

"Whether or not that's true, it changes nothing," Harry said. "I need to find a way out of here and I need to do it alone."

Neville took a few steps forward and aggressively grabbed Harry's upper arm. "That's bullshit," he snarled. "You've never needed to do things alone before."

Harry chuckled wryly. "Yes I did," he said. "But no one ever let me."

"Well, _I'm_ not letting you _now_," Neville said, his tone much more intimidating than Harry was used to of the boy. "If they –" he nodded sharply towards the other four, "don't want to come, so be it. But I'm not letting you do this by yourself."

"And I'm not letting you come," Harry said easily. He carefully pried Neville's fingers away from his arm and squeezed his hand lightly before dropping it. "It's for the best."

Neville's confidence seemed to falter. "But –"

"Thank you," Harry said softly before directing himself towards the entire Gryffindor group. "Thank you all for what you've done for me. Really. I understand that you feel trapped right now about what to do but I'll make it easier for you. Try to stay safe alright?"

There was a general murmur of acceptance and Ron finally looked up to meet Harry's gaze. Harry smiled at him but Ron didn't reciprocate. There was doubt in his eyes but there was also pain.

_Pain that I'm the cause of._

"I'm sorry," Harry said. "I hope I'll be able to make it up to you one day."

He turned to walk away, ignoring Neville calling out his name. It took every bit of self-restraint he could muster not to look back because he knew that if he did, his resolve might falter. There were no quickened footsteps or the sound of rustling grass to follow him. There wasn't even any talking among the five to give Harry an idea of how far behind the group was getting. But even that was for the best. When he finally did look back, there wasn't a trace to be seen of his friends. His housemates.

His family.

Harry narrowed his eyes, thinking of what he was supposed to do. He needed to find Voldemort and do something to free all those people. And he needed to do so before anyone of either the prisoners or the students was killed. He wondered if anyone of the order was trying to find him yet. No one had an inkling of what had happened to the other students who had disappeared so Harry didn't have much hope.

No, this was all up to him.

_But Severus can help as well._

That's right. Even now, he wasn't truly alone. He had someone on the inside looking out for him. But he had to be careful not to let Voldemort know that. If he ever found out about Severus' true loyalties, the man would probably be dead before he could say 'Sectumsempra'.

With his goal firmly in mind, he kept going north as he had originally planned. Going in the same direction was the best bet he had of getting out of here, after all. That didn't necessarily mean that he would find Voldemort there but if he could get out in the first place, he might be able to find out where exactly they were and get some help.

If only he could talk to Severus. Harry knew the man was probably being closely watched by Voldemort now. In his dream, he had seen what Severus was expected to do for him. Making potions. At least, for now, that meant the man wasn't in any real danger. Not yet, at least. But what he had also seen was the fact that some of the death eaters were getting weaker despite the potions Severus fed them. Was that a side-effect of the mystery ingredient Severus had added at the very last moment? It could be but Harry wasn't too sure about that. Voldemort almost seemed to expect his Death Eaters to eventually collapse. Was there something more going on?

Thoughts clouded his mind as he kept going but never once did he falter in hiding his appearance to the best of his abilities. It was ridiculous to realise just how long it could take to traverse across a dense forest such as this one. Harry didn't have the idea that he had travelled a long distance at all, but, nevertheless, it took him a great deal of time and effort to go on. It was a good thing that water was not exactly sparse in this forest. Not when one knew where to look. But gathering food and water was another distraction that made moving forward even more time-consuming. By the time several more hours had passed and darkness was starting to fall again, Harry imagined he had travelled no more than several miles. And somehow he doubted that any of the other students were doing much better. Unless someone could fashion their own broom to fly out of here there was nothing in their arsenal to make this easier other than burning the forest down. Luckily, no one had been stupid enough to give that tactic a try.

_Though if anyone will, it'll probably be Ron._

Harry sighed as he once again found a decent tree he could sleep in. He covered his tracks a bit before he climbed into the monster of a tree – only barely high enough to not get snatched up by wolves – and made himself a semi-comfortable nest.

With a cleverly cast 'incarcerous' he tied himself to the tree, keeping his arms free in the process. He covered himself with multiple blankets and folded one to put underneath his head. Then, for good measure, he cast a disillusionment charm on himself to try and keep from being seen. It was not nearly as effective as his invisibility cloak; if anyone really tried to see him, they would. But anyone strolling past would probably be unaware of his presence. And so would most predators.

He ate the berries he had found along the way and devoured another portion of the tinned nuts that had been in the rucksack when he heard voices. He had to suppress a groan when he realised which group they belonged to.

"That's odd," a voice sounding suspiciously like Theodore Nott said. "The tracks ended a few feet back. Did he apparate or something?"

"Don't be an idiot," Malfoy drawled. "You know as well as I do that we can't apparate here. Besides, I doubt Potter even knows what apparition is."

"Fine, then _you_ explain what happened," Nott said angrily.

"Isn't it obvious?" Malfoy asked, sounding decidedly bored. "He covered up his tracks."

"Clever boy," Daphne Greengrass said, stretching the last word. "I never would have seen it in him."

"Don't sound so impressed," Zabini said. "The fact of the matter is that we lost him. Again."

"I knew we should've taken him out at the beginning," Crabbe huffed.

"You heard the Dark Lord," Malfoy replied. "We're only allowed to kill him with magic."

"So we should have grabbed him and dragged him with us," Goyle said.

"Shoulda coulda woulda," Pansy Parkinson said in annoyance. "There's no point arguing about this now. He can't be far and I doubt he'll be moving much once the darkness has fully set it."

"Neither will we," Tom Ackerley said. Harry hadn't heard him say much yet and had almost forgotten about the shy boy. "I don't know about you but I'd rather not risk a broken leg in the middle of nowhere." Tom had been the first Slytherin Harry was genuinely upset about disappearing. But, be it willingly or unwillingly, here he was; hunting Harry down with the rest of them.

There was a moment of silence before Malfoy spoke up again.

"Don't look at him like that, Pansy," he said. "He's right. We're better off stopping here and moving on in the morning."

_Of course. Of all the places they could choose to go to sleep, they have to settle right here!_

Harry couldn't believe his poor luck. He really should've taken more care to wipe his footprints clean earlier on. But if he had done that, he would've advanced even less than he already had. He really hadn't expected to be followed at all. Not yet at least. Not even by the Slytherins. But they seemed to have found their resolve and were now quickly making plans to kill Harry.

Luckily, they didn't exactly camp right in front of his tree. Instead, they ventured a little bit further before coming to a halt in a spot that was relatively clear of trees and stones. Crabbe and Goyle dumped a pile of logs in the middle and Zabini set it ablaze with a well-aimed Incendio.

Harry couldn't see them very well from where he was sitting but he could certainly smell the scent of fish as it was cooking above the fire. Suddenly, his meagre meal of fruits and nuts had seemed very pitiful indeed. He wondered how the Slytherins had even managed to catch a fish in the first place but quickly reasoned that the purebloods probably knew some spells he wasn't familiar with. He tried to keep his stomach at bay as it reacted to the ridiculously wonderful smell but it didn't really matter. The crackling of the warm, inviting fire probably drowned out such small sounds like Harry's hungry belly.

Harry only noticed how quiet the Slytherins had been when the first one started talking.

"I want to go home," Parkinson said.

"Don't start whinging," Greengrass responded. "We've only been here for a few days."

"So?" Parkinson replied cattily. "A few days or not, I never agreed to this… madness."

Someone shushed her. "Don't say that, Pansy," Malfoy said. "You know he has ears everywhere."

_Wait, they're not here willingly either?_

"I don't think so," Parkinson said sullenly. "He doesn't really care about what we do. All he cares about is the golden boy."

"Now you sound like a jealous brat," Greengrass drawled lazily. "Have you only now realised that we are nothing but pawns?"

"Oh really?" Zabini asked. "If you really think that, why are you even here?"

"If it wasn't me, it was going to be someone else," Greengrass said, trying not to sound upset but Harry could hear past that.

"Ah," Malfoy said. "Your sister?"

There was no response but Harry thought she might have nodded. For a moment, he felt decidedly off-kilter. Sure, he had begun to realise that not all Slytherins were bad and that they too were only human. But to learn that they were also being threatened into this mad game; that some of them would actually rather not be involved at all was something Harry had never thought to even think of. Maybe he had been wrong about Malfoy as well.

_Are none of them here because they want to be?_

"Yeah, if I didn't come, he'd have gone after my mother," Malfoy said in a tone that might've been used to describe the weather. "Not my father, of course, because he's needed for something he didn't want to tell me about but the Dark Lord wouldn't think twice about killing her if he thought it would teach me my place."

There were some general murmurs of consensus and Harry's chest tightened around his heart. Something inside of him desperately wanted to reach out, to find out more and perhaps form some sort of alliance. But even the old Harry would've known that to be a foolish move. Whatever their motivations, they wanted Harry dead. And they, as opposed to the other houses, would not hesitate, he didn't think.

_Or maybe they would? They're just as scared as I am. As everyone else here is._

"What are we even going to do when we find him?" Greengrass asked softly. Harry had to really strain to pick up on it.

"What do you mean?" Nott asked.

"Who's going to do it?" Greengrass clarified. "Has any of you ever cast the killing curse successfully?"

"We… er… don't need to use that spell, per se," Theo said. Harry thought he sounded more disturbed than Harry himself and _he_ was the one whose death they were discussing.

"Yeah," Draco chuckled bitterly. "We could just send a tripping hex at him and hope he cracks his skull open when he falls."

"Oh, grow a pair, would you?" Parkinson said boldly. "He's a Gryffindor. And a bloody annoying one at that. I, for one, won't be crying over his dead body when he's gone and neither should you!"

Harry snorted involuntarily and hoped that no one heard him.

"That's different, though," Zabini interjected. "I might not care when he dies but to be the one to actually kill him…" he trailed off in uncertainty.

Parkinson scoffed. "I can't believe the lot of you," she said. "What would the Dark Lord say if he heard you right now?"

"I'd bet my fortune that it would be 'Crucio," Draco deadpanned resulting in the laughter of the rest of the group.

_Ah, torture. Always the perfect ice breaker._

"So, Pansy," Greengrass asked after a while. "Does that mean you'll do it? I mean…"

"Kill him?" Parkinson asked haughtily. "Well, if none of you other _Hufflepuffs_ will, I suppose I have no choice."

"But," Goyle said, surprising Harry slightly. The meathead hadn't said anything in ages. "Would that really be for the best?"

"Hush, Greg," Malfoy said hurriedly.

"I mean it, though," Goyle said. "You never know if –"

"Shut up, Gregory," Crabbe interjected. "Don't even think it."

There was some inaudible grumbling but Goyle didn't finish his sentence.

The Slytherin troop seemed to be as exhausted as Harry was because soon after they finished their fish, they transfigured some random pieces of wood into blankets and pillows and went to sleep. They didn't even wish each other good night and Harry wondered about that. There seemed to be two camps among the Slytherins. One that was generally opposed to killing Harry for no good reason and another that seemed to be fine with it. Though most of the Slytherins had been careful to keep their opinions on the matter to themselves, Harry couldn't help but hope that most of them were secretly on his side. And they might not help him, but they might not aim a lethal curse at him either. He hoped that he could still trust Tom and Theo, at least. He was ambiguous about Malfoy but unwilling to take a chance with the blonde.

The main thing he would have to do tomorrow was find a way to sneak away from the Slytherins without them noticing. Though, for now, he would follow their lead and go to sleep. While it might be dangerous to close his eyes while this close to the 'enemy', he knew that he needed his rest. And besides, their conversation had somehow eased Harry's immediate fear of the snake house. They had seemed more… human than ever. More exposed than he would ever experience again.

Thinking that this 'game' might not go the way Voldemort had envisioned, Harry fell into a light sleep.

* * *

When Harry next woke, it was to the sound of an ear-splitting scream. Startled, he bolted upright and looked around him, trying to find out where the commotion was coming from. He had almost rushed towards the scene of the disturbance when he remembered where he was and who had been sleeping nearby. He quickly recast the disillusionment charm on himself and tried to see what was going on.

"MOVE!" Malfoy yelled and when Harry tried to focus his gaze on the scene, he saw a panicked scramble.

Crabbe and Goyle were dragging Tom towards Harry's location, each of them holding one of their arms under the boy's armpits. He was screaming bloody murder and Harry could see a streak of red coming from his right pant leg.

"What happened?" Parkinson yelled, sounding hysterical.

"Just get away from there!" Zabini shouted in response. "No, leave those! Just go!"

Parkinson listened to Zabini and joined the rest of the Slytherins in a mad dash to safety. Harry frowned as they passed him, thankfully not noticing the shimmer of his charm, and saw that Tom's right foot was gone. It was cut clean off in a very neat line that he didn't think even the most precise of spells could do. The blood that came gushing out was plentiful and Harry found himself hoping that the Slytherins would be able to deal with that.

Their mad scramble to get away from whatever was going on did make it so that Harry didn't need to find a way to sneak away from underneath their noses. Before he took advantage of that, though, he decided that he should find out just what had caused this madness.

When he was sure that the area was clear, he climbed down and carefully snuck over to the Slytherins' abandoned campsite. He saw no animals, fantastical or otherwise, nor did he see any other students that might have attacked them. There was no violent plant life or natural disaster such as an earth slide or whatnot. He stared at a puddle of blood and was confused not to see a foot anywhere. If Tom had lost his, surely, it would still be around?

And that was when he saw it.

A small squirrel was sitting near the extinguished campfire, nibbling on an acorn, when it saw Harry. Spooked, it dropped the acorn and made a mad dash to the north. Harry watched it as it ran and was completely stunned when the animal ran straight into some sort of invisible barrier that took the upper half of its body clean off. It almost seemed to have been disintegrated as its blood splattered everywhere. The lower half of its body dropped to the floor, the right leg still twitching when Harry saw that it too began to dissolve slowly.

A weight settled into his stomach when he realised what was going on. To make sure, he grabbed a rock and tossed it in the same direction the squirrel had gone before it died. It didn't disintegrate or anything. Instead, it landed nicely past the point the squirrel hadn't been able to cross. But there _had_ been a shimmer. Almost unnoticeable if you weren't looking for it, but Harry was sure of it.

_It's a barrier. It's a bloody barrier!_

And as he looked at the slowly dissolving body of the squirrel, now down to the tail, he realised that the barrier was coming closer to Harry. It didn't take a Potions Master's mind to soon realise that this barrier probably surrounded the area the students had been dropped in. And that it was growing smaller. That's when another realisation set in.

_There's no escape._

There was no time to consider the implications further. He gathered his belongings as quickly as he could and made a mad dash south, to get as far away as he could from the life-dissolving barrier that was coming his way at an alarming rate.

Not even caring about staying silent, he ran as fast as he could but didn't get far before catching up to the Slytherins that had tried to escape earlier. They hadn't noticed him yet, in their panic, but Harry was sure that if he continued rushing ahead, they would. And it was hard to block spells aimed at your back.

Stupidly, they stopped.

"What was that?" Parkinson asked, sounding very distraught. Tom was crying and yelling in agony, blood still pouring freely from his leg. It broke Harry's heart to see the boy in such pain and agony. Theo was trying to staunch the wound by pressing a cloth against the stump but Harry knew that that would do no good.

"I don't know," Theo admitted as he worked.

"Do you think it was some sort of invisible creature?" Parkinson asked again.

"I don't know," Theo repeated. His hands were slowly getting covered in blood as he kept trying – and failing – to help his housemate.

_Come on, move! You're still too close to the barrier._

"Could it be some sort of punishment from the Dark Lord?" Parkinson asked, sounding weepier by the second.

"I DON'T KNOW!" Theo yelled.

"Theodore," Malfoy said, putting a hand on Theo's shoulder. The rest of the message went unspoken but the Slytherin seemed to understand. Parkinson shut up after Malfoy glared at her.

Harry might have gotten more in touch with his Slytherin side over the course of the past year, and yes, all of his instincts were yelling at him to just go away and leave the Slytherins – who were clearly out to kill him – to their own devices but he just couldn't ignore the Gryffindor core that would always be his. He couldn't watch the group fumble desperately as they tried to save their friend. Especially because Tom had, quite frankly, become somewhat of a friend to Harry as well. As had Theo. He knew what it would do to Theo to watch his friend slowly bleed out. What it would do to the rest of the group.

No, Harry couldn't just up and leave, knowing that if they took too much time to move again, the barrier would hit them once more. If that happened, they would probably be forced to leave Tom behind to die quite gruesomely. Harry didn't wish such an experience on anyone. Not even on the double-crossing Draco Malfoy.

_Severus is so going to give me detention until I'm thirty for this._

Harry hid himself behind a tree to make sure that the Slytherins wouldn't be able to detect or hex him after the first syllable he uttered. Then he grasped his wand tightly and took a deep breath.

"I can help you," he said loudly.

The Slytherins, who had been mumbling among themselves grew quiet. All except Tom who couldn't stop crying out in pain.

"The barrier is coming this way," Harry said, ignoring how his heart pounded in his chest. "If you stay here too long, it'll get you."

"Potter?" Malfoy asked. "Why would you care if it got us, if there even is one? For all we know, you're lying." Harry was not fooled by Malfoy's harsh tone.

He sighed in exasperation. "I'm not the Slytherin here," he said. "And lying or not, I'm sure that even you can see that Tom will die soon if you don't help him."

"What, and you know what to do?" Malfoy scoffed sounding unsure.

"Draco," Theo said in a warning tone of voice. It effectively shut the Malfoy heir up. "Harry, what do I have to do?"

_Harry smiled in relief. It was good that Theo, at least, still saw reason._

"I know this is going to sound harsh, but trust me on this," Harry said. "Use a controlled Incendio on the wound."

"Where is he?" Parkinson suddenly screeched. "If we kill him, this will all be over and we can get back to sort this all out. Where is –"

SMACK

Harry didn't know what happened but if he knew anything it was the sound of a palm against flesh. Someone had just slapped the living daylights out of Parkinson.

"Shut up," Greengrass snarled. "There's no time for your egotistical behaviour."

"Potter," Zabini growled lowly. "If you are trying to take advantage –"

"I'm not," Harry said decidedly. "I saw the wound. There's no skin to stretch across the wound so you can't close it up. Even if you found dittany. And he's losing way too much blood. The only way to close it now is by cauterising it."

"Blaise," Theo said lowly. "We can trust him. We have to do this."

Harry noticed that the sounds of Tom's struggle were quieting down and he worried that it might already be too late.

"Hurry," he said. "I swear on my parents' grave that this is the best thing you can do right now."

There was only a moment of hesitation before Harry heard Theo whisper the incantation. It was soon followed by the smell of burning flesh and the sound of screaming. Harry grit his teeth, not even able to imagine the pain the Slytherin must be in right now. But Theo didn't falter and kept going until the wound was closed.

When the sounds of sizzling and screaming stopped, Harry could only hear Theo's struggled breathing. He realised that his own breathing matched that of the struggling Slytherin. He carefully went through his rucksack and sifted through the available potions.

_I must have really lost it if I'm doing this._

He took out one of the sparse blood replenishing potions and left it behind the tree.

"I'm going now," Harry then announced. "If you give me a head start of a few minutes, I'll leave a blood replenishing potion behind a tree. I'll aim a spell at it once I'm far enough away. Deal?"

A few of them grunted their consent.

"And don't stay too long. That barrier is coming closer."

Harry didn't wait for another response. Instead, he walked a fair distance until he could barely still see the tree he had placed the potion under. He then hit it with a very light aguamenti, alerting the Slytherins to the potion. He watched as they gathered it and then quickly left the scene towards safety.

_Yup. I'm definitely dicing flobberworms for this one._

* * *

_A/N: *Raises hands defensively* Okay, look. I said that the hostages would be left alone for now. I didn't say anything about the students!  
__Anyway, please let me know what you thought._


	50. Chapter 50

_Hi again! Thank you all for your reviews and words of encouragement. I look forward to seeing this through with all of you._

* * *

**Chapter 50**

Now that Harry knew there was no way to simply walk out of this area alive, he was making his way back to the general centre of the piece of forest Voldemort had demarcated. He could only travel so far before he needed to rest for a short break and when he did, he started thinking over his current predicament.

The barrier that could, apparently, disintegrate living organisms was moving. And yes, the speed it was moving at was not alarming yet but Harry could not be sure that it would remain that way. What it told him, though, was that there was a time limit to this entire thing. What that limit was, he couldn't predict. Not without knowing the rough circumference of the place.

The other thing that had become obvious was that the Slytherins did not enjoy the benefits Harry had initially suspected them to. Sure, they had gotten a portkey to get to their wands first and, yes, a package of food and blankets had been left for them. But now that the game had begun, they were obviously in as much trouble as the rest of the houses were. The fact that Tom Ackerley had become wounded already was proof of that.

Speaking of the Slytherins, it was clear that not all of them were too happy about this plan. Some, if not most of them, were coerced into it with promises of pain and grief.

The snapping of a few twigs in the distance made Harry move on again. He wasn't sure who or what was nearby now but he needed time to come up with a plan. If he could only figure out what the point was to all of this, he could do something about it.

And then he wondered about his link with Severus. With the link he shared with Voldemort, he sometimes had these visions. And sure, that particular link was one of a kind but maybe the connection he had with Severus' had similar properties. Severus had, after all, already projected several images into Harry's mind, earlier. And if anyone knew what was going on and what it would take to get out of this place, it would have to be Severus, right?

Harry stopped beside a lake where he could gather fresh water when he needed to. He stayed inside the treeline, though, choosing a vantage point from which he could easily see the others arrive if they came here. He sat in the shadow of a large tree and closed his eyes.

It was time to test this connection to the fullest.

_Severus, are you there?_

Harry's mind needed a reminder of Severus' presence. Something to latch onto. He felt as though he could almost grasp it if only he had one more exchange with Severus. However brief it may be.

_Please say something. It doesn't matter what._

There was a long moment of silence while Harry focused all of his attention on his mindscape. And then…

**Harry, are you alright?**

Severus' voice was like a bridge and his words the sign that led Harry straight to it. He latched onto that wonderfully familiar feeling of Severus' mind and allowed himself to follow it. He wasn't far away, Harry could sense that. He was somewhere in this forest, close by but somehow out of reach.

A mixture of thoughts and real visuals of trees and greenery past Harry by at such speeds that he could not identify them. And he didn't want to. All he wanted at that moment was to focus on the one man that he knew could help him here. The man that had helped him overcome so much already. The man that would help him fight.

And then, he felt himself come to a halt as he touched upon the source of Severus' presence. It was an odd experience but not unlike Occlumency. He was still aware of his body. He could feel the cold breeze and the dampness of the earth he sat on. He could smell the leaves and could even hear the steady stream of water in the lake. But these were all superficial feelings that lay at the back of his mind. His focus was on the man he had just discovered. And when he touched upon it, he was granted access immediately. There were no walls he had to fight and no trials to overcome. No, it felt as if he was welcomed. Embraced.

He could feel emotions that were not his own. Confusion. Curiosity. Relief.

_Severus. Can you still hear me?_

**Harry. What… What have you done?**

_I followed our connection. It led me to you. _

**Your ability to create paths where there were none before never ceases to amaze me.**

The painted waters of Severus' mind met Harry only to lap at his feet like the waves on a beach.

_I need to know what's going on. What do I need to do?_

**There's not a lot I can tell you, Harry. The Dark Lord hasn't informed me of his plans just yet. But things are very dire here**.

_Can you show me? Can I see through your eyes?_

If Voldemort had been able to see through Harry's eyes at one point, why wouldn't Harry be able to do the same thing now?

**I can try.**

The waters around Harry stilled and then he was suddenly engulfed in darkness. As if he had blinked only to keep his eyes closed.

But then a visual started forming. At first, only the edges of his vision started to pick up on the new stimuli. But then, bit by bit, the rest of his sight started to fill in, until he was staring down a clearing as if he was there himself. He looked down into a cauldron in which a green potion was simmering and a hand that wasn't his stirred the ladle clockwise.

_It worked._

**Fascinating.**

Harry could feel the excitement within Severus and wondered if it was because of the significance of this new discovery or because it would probably help Harry, and therefore the war effort, tremendously. It was probably a bit of both.

Severus looked up and Harry could finally see what was going on at his end. Not that it made his current predicament clearer in any way. He could see the same circle that he had often seen in his visions. In the middle of it stood a large pillar and surrounding it was a circle of Death Eaters accompanied by Voldemort. None of them wore their masks and all of them had spread out their arms widely. Voldemort was there as well and Harry wondered if the man was also part of the ritual that was clearly going on here. He probably had to be. His pet snake slithered at his feet, occasionally snapping at the death eaters in the circle, even if none of them moved a muscle. The items that Harry and Severus had identified as horcruxes were placed carefully at the foot of the pillar.

_Why do you think he gathered those here?_

**I can only venture a guess. But I suspect that this ritual is expected to change the magical essence of the Dark Lord greatly enough for the Horcruxes to become disconnected. Such a change would be preventable by including them.**

_Change his magical essence? In what way?_

**I don't know. But I expect that the Dark Lord is trying to attain more power as that is always on the forefront of his, mind.**

Some of the Death eaters were acting fidgety while others grimaced as if they were in terrible pain. Harry couldn't help but notice the two of them that were obviously dead, yet hadn't been moved. Most of them looked normal and healthy, though.

_What's wrong with them? Is it because of the potion?_

**I've been wondering the same thing myself. The potion might have to do with some of their discomforts but others have come too suddenly. And it most definitely shouldn't have been able to kill someone.**

Severus's eyes flickered towards the bodies of the dead Death Eaters.

**Also**,** the opposite has happened as well.**

_The opposite?_

Severus looked at the Death Eater Harry recognised as Goyle senior. The large man was focusing on the pillar, mumbling Latin incantations under his breath without pause.

**Goyle wasn't doing too well yesterday. Because of his size, his portions of the potion were larger than that of the others. It has had an… obvious effect on him. However, sometime this morning, he regained his strength and sanity without any expected reason for it. Only the Dark Lord seemed to understand the change and was most pleased about it.**

This morning? What happened this morning? Harry had woken up to the Slytherin squad succumbing to the shrinking barrier but that could not possibly have been it, could it? If only he had a way of finding out what was happening with the other students. Had any of them encountered that particular threat yet?

Severus stirred his potion again, giving Harry the time to recollect his thoughts.

_How are the prisoners? _

**Harry… it's best that you don't see.**

_I already saw. Voldemort made sure of that. Please…_

**Very well.**

A quick glance at Voldemort revealed that the man was much too focused on the ritual he had going on to watch Severus closely. Harry supposed that it helped that the Potions Master was so trusted. Then, his eyes moved towards the group of people that were chained together at the clearing's edge. They were all huddled together, some of them comforting Mrs Weasley and Bill to the best of their abilities. Harry hated seeing them like that, both having lost something so permanently. And all because Voldemort wanted to play a sick game. But he could also see that neither of the Weasleys were broken. Through the pain, they were fighting. They were hopeful.

**I wish there was something I could do for them.**

Harry hated to hear the pain in Severus' voice. But he knew that the Weasleys understood that Severus could not blow his cover. Ultimately, everyone would be worse off if that happened.

_You're doing everything you can._

And then, the connection seemed to shimmer with static, like a radio with a bad connection. And then it was gone.

Harry opened his eyes, grimacing when he experienced a sudden headache. It was probably a side-effect from the clumsy connection he had made. Harry could only hope that Severus didn't experience the same effects.

He tried to piece together what he knew.

From what he had seen, there were twenty-three Death Eaters involved in this ritual. Voldemort made twenty-four. On the other hand, if Harry had counted correctly, twenty-four students had been kidnapped, including himself. It was probably important that those numbers matched.

Since coming here, the Death Eaters had to sustain the ritual non-stop, which was probably why Severus had been tasked with creating a potion to counteract hunger and fatigue. The students, however, could sleep and eat when they needed to. An advantage in this… whatever the hell this was.

But, most importantly, two Death Eaters had dropped dead and Harry was aware that more of them had experienced some nasty side-effects here and there, while Goyle had, somehow, _gained_ power rather than lost it. Were these effects the result of some of Harry's actions? Maybe not only _his_ actions. Is that why Neville and Ron had been punished?

Harry would have to analyse things more carefully. For now, he didn't have enough information to develop a strategy just yet.

Suddenly, a curse flew right past his ear, scorching the trunk of the tree behind him. In one smooth motion, Harry drew his wand and turned to face his adversary.

"Nothing personal, Potter," her trembling voice said.

Harry recognised Leanne Wenlock from that night in the library. Other then that, she had never caught his attention before. But now, here she was. Her wand was clenched tightly in her outstretched hand. A stance that spoke of confidence but an expression that betrayed the opposite. It was clear to Harry that she wasn't fit to duel. If she had been, she wouldn't have missed a non-moving target.

"Leanne," Harry said as calmly as he could. "You don't have to do this."

"Someone has to!" Leanne exclaimed. "If we don't, then…"

"I know," Harry said, keeping his eyes trained on Leanne's wand. "But I'll find a way out of this. I'll fix it."

"They have my dad," she shouted, sounding heartbreakingly desperate. "Please! You have to understand!"

Harry hated this. This girl had probably never aimed her wand at another person in her life. Not out of the classroom, that is. And here she was, being forced to try and kill Harry. He honestly doubted that she would even know a spell that would seriously harm him but even though he understood her, he would not just roll over and die.

"I understand," he said and he smiled at Leanne, wanting her to know that he bore her no ill will.

She sniffed and wiped her face with her sleeve. "I don't know what to do," she cried. "I don't want to do this."

"Go ahead," Harry said. He would let her try. If Voldemort saw that she at least had made an effort, surely, he wouldn't punish her. "Attack me, Leanne. I promise that it will be alright."

She looked at him with big innocent eyes. No, she was not ready for this kind of confrontation. But then she aimed her wand at Harry and shakily sent a stupefy his way. Harry side-stepped it easily.

"Confringo," he said sternly, aiming his wand just a little bit to the left so that it was a tree and not Leanne that was captured in the magical bindings.

"Reducto," Leanne yelled. Harry erected a shield and stood firm.

_Come on, Leanne. Just a little bit more._

"Aguamenti," Harry said, instantly showering Leanne with water at a force that would not be enough to knock her off her feet.

Leanne shook her wet hair out of her face and fixed her eyes on Harry once more. "I-Incendio,"

Not wanting to take the risk of setting the forest on fire, Harry thought that Leanne's attempt at hurting him would probably be sufficient for Voldemort. "Expelliarmus," he said calmly, effectively disarming the poor Hufflepuff before her fiery spiral reached him. He caught the wand when it flew his way and watched how Leanne sank to her knees, burying her face in her shaking hands.

"I'm sorry!" she kept muttering. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

Harry sighed and crouched next to her. He put a hand on Leanne's shoulder. She didn't flinch away.

"It's alright," he told her. She sobbed loudly and Harry now draped his arm around her shoulder. "Everything will work out," he said again.

Crying even louder now, Leanne leaned into Harry's awkward embrace, accepting comfort from the person she had wanted to kill only moments earlier. Well, not kill, Harry imagined. Even if she had told herself that she was going to, there was no way that this girl would ever have gone through with it.

"It will be fine," Harry mumbled. He realised that he was spouting nothing but platitudes but that was all he could think of at that moment. It was only after she calmed down a bit and drew back again, her cheeks tinged red ever so slightly, that Harry really talked to her.

"Where are the other Hufflepuffs?" he asked.

Leanne rubbed at her face again but she had stopped crying. "Looking for supplies," she replied sheepishly. "I was supposed to do the same but then I saw you and I… we've only been here for a few days but it's been so hard!"

"You're doing great," Harry told her. "I know why you did it. Really. You don't have to worry."

"You're not going to… you know… attack me back?" Leanne asked.

"I already did," Harry said, showing her the wand he still hadn't given back. "That makes us even, don't you think?"

Leanne chuckled bitterly. "If my dad knew what I just tried –"

"You didn't hurt me," Harry interjected. "Trust me. It's fine."

"Leanne!"

Both Harry and Leanne looked up when her name was called from somewhere in the distance.

"Zach," she said softly. "He's looking for me."

"Well, you'd best be off then," Harry said. He held out Leanne's wand for her to take, the butt first.

"Right…" she said. Carefully, she took her wand. She locked eyes with Harry one last time before running off.

Harry shook his head. Most of the students in this forest would have the same problem as Leanne did. The Defence Against the Dark Arts lessons of the last couple of years had been primarily abysmal, after all. Those that had been in the DA, had improved quickly but most of those here hadn't been in the DA. The people he would have to really watch out for were the Slytherins and Ron and Neville. And Harry hoped that Ron and Neville would just stay away from him. The rest, as long as they didn't gang up on him, shouldn't be that hard to fight. Especially when their resolve was flimsy at best.

Sure, threatening someone's family was a good motivator. But it didn't make killing someone any easier.

* * *

Harry was getting worried that he was sustaining himself with nothing but nuts and berries. While their supply had run out, he figured that he would need something with more protein. He didn't know how to catch animals and even if he did, he didn't know if he wanted to take the risk of encountering something fantastical again. It had been a stroke of luck that he had been able to speak with the runespoor, after all.

The days were starting to get colder. Autumn was nearly turning into winter, and the thickness of the canopy did not help in allowing any of the day's heat to come through. So Harry expended more energy to try and keep himself warm which, in turn, made him even hungrier. One could argue that he was used to it but it would not do to become weak now. Not when he was bound to run into some more life-or-death situations.

He thought that he might try to fish. He hadn't left the lake's side, not even after the encounter with Leanne. He had simply walked along the edge for the better part of an hour after which he hid in the thick greenery nearby. After not seeing or hearing anyone for a few hours more, Harry deemed it safe to come out and try out his fishing idea. He purposefully waited until nightfall. If he was to fish, he would be out in the open, after all. And he didn't want to take that risk. Especially now that the others were starting to become restless.

It was a good thing that he was a wizard and that he had his wand. While he didn't know how to transfigure something into a fishing pole, he knew how to transfigure the bits. He found a strong enough branch, transfigured a piece of bark into twine and transfigured the needles of a pine tree into a hook. After combining all of that into what should be a decent enough fishing pole, Harry gathered a variety of bugs of which there was no short supply. All he had to do was find some piles of dead leaves, that were abundantly present, and dig underneath.

_And if I can't catch a fish, I can always eat some beetles._

Soon, Harry found himself relaxing at the lakeside, sitting in the damp grass with a couple of blankets wrapped around his shoulders to keep him warm. It was odd, really, but in that instant, he didn't feel stressed or scared. The lake was a welcome relief from the thick trees, even if it was not the safest place to be. The waxing moon reflected peacefully on the water's surface and when Harry looked up, he could see thousands of stars in a clarity that he had never seen before. There were no sounds other than those of the bush crickets all around him and the occasional splash of a stray fish bobbing at the surface.

_If I wasn't here to battle my friends to the death, it would actually be a nice place._

**Perhaps, one day, we can return here under different circumstances.**

Harry swallowed thickly. He hadn't expected a response but it was a welcome one. One that spoke of hope for the future. Harry wasn't sure if that hope was well-founded but he found it easy to go along with it.

_I'd like that._

There came no other reply. But it had been enough for Harry. With Severus on his side, he wasn't quite so lonely. He looked up again to see the shadowy silhouette of a winged creature fly past the moon. A thestral, Harry recognised.

And then a tug on his line drew him out of his reveries.

* * *

A stressed-out, wide-eyed expression.

"Severus, give me some. Now!"

Severus stared at the gaunt face of Lucius Malfoy as the man was practically clawing at him as if that would somehow secure him his potion.

"It is nearly done, Lucius," Severus said evenly. "I advise you to get back to the circle before the Dark Lord finds you standing here with me."

Lucius scratched feverishly at his neck and Severus could see the long, red gashes that were proof of this not being the first time. A few drops of blood slid down his neck and Severus could see the dried skin underneath Lucius' fingernails.

"You must have some left over from the previous batch!" Lucius pleaded.

"Back in line, Lucius!" the Dark Lord barked. Such blatant disobedience would normally have earned some pain but this time, there came no Unforgivable. Lucius simply did as he was told and resumed his part of the incantation.

* * *

Harry woke up. Not with a start as he would normally do when he had visions of any sort, but rather in a relaxed and calm fashion. It was Severus that had shared the vision this time. Harry didn't know if it had been intentional or not but he did know that the Death Eaters were already starting to rely on the potion. Harry could only hope that Voldemort wouldn't suspect Severus.

Harry stretched and started gathering his things. He had already tossed the bones of the small fish he had caught during the night back into the lake. He knew that if he didn't do that, other creatures could be attracted by the smell. Unfortunately, he hadn't dared to light a fire out of fear of being discovered and had been forced to eat the fish raw. It was odd how good such things could taste if you were only hungry enough.

Harry spent the rest of the day by trying to build some sort of shelter. He knew that he wouldn't be able to escape this area, after all, and since he still needed water, it would be better if he stayed close to the lake. He could catch fish this way as well.

Harry spent the rest of the day by trying to build some sort of temporary shelter. While he would take full advantage of his mobility, he still felt that he needed a place to himself, somewhere out of sight from the rest of the students who were sure to be drawn to the lake.

Trying to recall the survivalist show he had seen on Dudley's telly one day, he looked for a pair of trees of which the distance between them was equal to Harry's body length. When he found a pair, he checked to make sure that they weren't dead or otherwise inclined to suddenly drop branches on his head. Because of the thickness of the woods, wind wasn't a big problem, so Harry was confident that a lean-to shelter would probably not be blown away.

He set up the base frame with branches he found lying around, tying them together with some rope he had transfigured. Then, he aligned some smaller branches against the backbone of his structure as well as some pine boughs. And then, finally, he filled all the nooks and crannies he could find with leaves.

Darkness was nearly falling again by the time he was done so all he could do was coat his new shelter with all of the protection and warding spells he knew and hope that they would hold.

He wrapped his blankets around him as he had done so often already and waited patiently for the night to truly fall.

* * *

He realised that he had nearly dozed off when a light startled him back into wakefulness. Peeking his head out of his tent, he saw a lone creature made up entirely of grey wisps of smoke. If Harry looked closely, he could make out two thinning tufts of arms that held on to a lantern. It emitted an eerily green light that melded softly into the forest background. As it passed Harry by, he could hear what sounded like people whispering to each other, their voices lost and forlorn. A cold wind blew past and Harry shivered. He felt a longing to follow the creature. But he knew what it was. A hinkypunk. And he knew better than to follow its lure.

Harry watched as it moved past without having spotted Harry and was just about to withdraw into his shelter when he heard the clumsy footsteps of someone running. He held still, relying on his protections.

The sound of heavy breathing came closer at a rapid pace, followed by a loud yelp when someone tripped and fell hard on the ground. Their hands scrambled frantically as they tried to get back up as quickly as they could, almost desperate to follow the hinkypunk that still whispered and sang in the distance.

"Wait up!"

Though there was little light, Harry recognised the voice. Collin Creevey. Did he get separated from the Gryffindors? Or were the rest of them close by as well? Collin started running again, after the hinkypunk and towards what Harry knew would be his untimely demise. Cursing under his breath, he decided that he could not leave the eager Gryffindor by himself like this and he ran after him. He knew that Severus would likely reprimand him for being a foolish Gryffindor but he was not about to sit by idly.

Not for the first time, he really wished that he had his invisibility cloak here.

Collin was fast. And the darkness did not help Harry with following him. Rebellious tree roots protruded the ground from awkward angles, forcing Harry to move slower than he would have liked. But Collin was hindered by them as well. Harry didn't want to shout out to the boy out of fear that he would attract something larger and more impressive. He already thought that he could hear something else in the forest but his own heavy breathing and resounding footsteps made that he couldn't say for sure.

And then the number of trees lessened and they arrived in a murky bog. Harry could see Collin and the hinkypunk clearly now. The green light in the lantern appeared to be brighter now and the hinkypunk was standing a few dozen feet away from Collin, standing eerily still in the middle of the bog. His lantern swayed a bit on the wind and the light within it seemed to pulse.

Harry heard the whispers again. They were louder this time, as if the whisperers were right behind him. Collin didn't seem to be affected by them. He wasn't running anymore but he kept inching closer to the hinkypunk, careful step after careful step. Harry went after him and noticed that his own feet sank deeply into the treacherous mud.

_Damn it all._

"Collin!"

The boy didn't respond. He kept moving forward and the closer he got, the brighter the lights became.

"Collin!" Harry shouted again. He started running again, trying to ignore the mud that attempted to halt him. He aimed his wand as he tried to remember the appropriate defence against hinkypunks. He had learned about them in third year from Professor Lupin.

He reached Collin and clamped a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Collin, wake up!" He shook the boy roughly as he tried to awaken him from his daze.

"H-Harry?" Collin then asked, blinking as he looked at Harry.

"Collin, we have to go," Harry urged. "Where is –"

Deafening silence. For one moment, the whispers stopped and only now Harry realised just how quiet the rest of the forest had gotten. And then, an ear-piercing screech emanated from the creature, causing Harry and Collin to clasp their hands over their ears. Harry tried to take a step backwards but his feet had sunk too deeply into the mud for a swift escape.

The screeching didn't abate and as Harry watched, the green light inside of the lantern turned into a dark red.

Harry motioned for Collin to run to which the younger Gryffindor fervently shook his head. Harry growled inwardly and moved in front of Collin to the best of his abilities. Then, the light of the lantern seemed to be drawn inward for a second before exploding outward and sending a blood-red fireball Harry's way that he could only barely deflect into the night sky.

"Go!" Harry shouted and this time, Collin didn't hesitate. Harry didn't turn to look at his retreat but he could feel the boy's presence leave him.

_Alright. Hinkypunks, hinkypunks…_

**Lumos!**

_Right_!

Harry removed his feet from the mud just in time to dodge another fireball. He rolled forward over his shoulder and in one smooth motion aimed his wand at the dangerous creature.

"Lumos!" he shouted. His wand shone a bright white light at the fog that was the hinkypunk, stunning and solidifying it in the process. Harry didn't hesitate. "Flipendo!"

That did the truck. The hinkypunk scattered into the night sky, dropping its lantern as it fled. The light within it died out immediately and the screeching stopped.

"Collin, are you –"

Harry turned around to check on Collin when he saw that the boy was already out of the mud and back on solid ground. With him were the other four Gryffindors, staring at him as if they had just seen a ghost.

Ron took a few shaky steps forward, his wand in hand and his arm outstretched. His expression was grim and his voice was cold when he spoke.

"Potter," he said. "You could not just stay away, could you?"

* * *

_Finally we have the return of our beloved Potions Master! You didn't think I was going to keep him in the background forever, did you? I hope you enjoyed it because a lot happened this chapter. Please review!_


	51. Chapter 51

**Chapter 51**

Involuntarily, Harry clenched his wand in his hand. He locked eyes with Ron only to find that the boy who had been his friend for all those years was not there right now. He looked at the other four Gryffindors and saw that they all looked genuinely uneasy.

Harry loosened his feet that were being sucked into the muck and turned his attention back to Ron.

"Ron," he said carefully. "Why are you here?"

Ron scoffed and Harry noticed that he had already drawn his wand and was now aiming it at Harry. "Why?" Ron asked coldly. "I would say that it has a lot to do with you, don't you think? We're _all_ here because of you."

Neville took a step forward. "Ron-"

"No!" Ron exclaimed, not taking his eyes off of Harry. "I – I know that you didn't want this, Harry. But things are what they are…"

Harry narrowed his gaze. "Ron, I don't want to hurt you," he said dangerously. "Just walk away."

Ron laughed bitterly. "Splendid idea. And what do you imagine might be the consequence of that? How much more of our encounters will my family survive, Harry? How much longer until there's nothing left?"

Harry clenched his teeth. This could not be happening. Ron was his best friend! Yes, what Voldemort was doing was awful but to seek Harry out like this? After everything they had shared and lived through…

There was a long moment of silence during which the pair of Gryffindors seized each other up. It was so quiet, that Harry could hear the wind rustling in the trees. The moon cast an eerie light on Ron's pale features and his hair was being blown into his face.

And then, as if guided by a sudden signal, Ron dashed forward and cast a cutting curse in Harry's direction. Harry parried it with great effort since he was still unable to move well in the murky bog. Ron followed up immediately with a blasting curse as he kept advancing.

"Protego!" Harry shouted. The blasting curse rebounded and landed somewhere to Ron's left, exploding a pile of mud in the process.

Harry cursed under his breath. This was not at all like the encounter with Leanne. Ron knew what he was doing. And he was going for the kill.

"Expelliarmus!" Harry shouted but Ron had been waiting for it. He raised his own shield and the spell landed harmlessly into the water.

"Bombarda! Ventus!"

The first spell didn't connect but the second upended Ron into the air for a few seconds before he landed on the ground with a squelch. He didn't stay down for long, though. Rolling out of the way, he dodged Harry's binding curse and cast several cutting curses Harry's way.

Harry parried two of them but a third cut his arm badly, into the groove of his elbow. Immediately, he was aware of the warm feeling of blood running down his arm and he gritted his teeth in pain. Ron stopped for a moment, his expression one of conflict.

"You don't need to do this," Harry pleaded. This had already gone too far. Any more and their friendship might be ruined forever, even if they got out of this damn forest.

But Ron's resolve hardened once more. "This time, Harry, I have no choice. INCENDIO!"

A great, roaring fire column hurried towards Harry but he was not about to just take it. "AGUAMENTI!"

Water and fire collided in a spectacular display of power. The force exuding from both elements threatened to blow Ron and Harry back so they both dug in their heels as they kept up their spells. Steam escaped from the central point of the onslaught, raising the surrounding temperature.

Harry screamed in exertion and heard his friend do the same when his aguamenti finally took the upper hand and extinguished Ron's fire. The force of the water blasted Ron back a few feet and into a tree. He gasped when he slammed into it and crumpled to the ground. He didn't stay down for long, though. Immediately, he scrambled back up.

"Stay down!" Harry yelled. Blood was now trickling down his hand and Harry absentmindedly wondered just how deeply the spell had cut him.

Defiant eyes met his and Harry steeled his own resolve. Friend or not, this had to end now. He was not about to sacrifice himself. Not after that faithful night when Severus had shown him the worth of his life.

He stepped forward to try and get back onto more solid ground while Ron recovered, aiming his wand at the infuriating redhead.

"Petrificus Totalus!"

He grimaced when Lavender chose that exact moment to jump in and parry the curse for Ron.

_Crap._

He could probably handle Ron by himself. But if more people chose to join in, he didn't think he'd stand a chance.

"Reducto!" Adam shouted, now also joining the fight. Harry jumped aside and watched how Ron re-joined the fight. Only Collin and Neville were standing aside but it was probably only a matter of time before they joined in.

"Three against one?" Harry commented, hoping that the fear didn't show in his voice. "How very brave of you."

"Face it, Harry," Ron said menacingly. "You were always meant to do this by yourself. It's only fair."

"Expelliarmus!"

Harry's eyes widened when Neville - who had come from an unexpected angle - disarmed Ron and took his wand from him. He then hurried to get away from the Gryffindors to stand beside Harry.

Harry glanced at him incredulously. "Neville?"

"Shame on you all!" Neville shouted at his housemates. "I thought you were supposed to be Gryffindors?"

Ron narrowed his eyes at Neville. "Are you sure this is the choice you want to make, Longbottom?"

Neville raised his chin just a fraction. "Positive,"

Ron, who was still without his wand, stepped towards Neville and Harry but they didn't back down. Lavender and Adam stayed where they were but they were already lowering their wands. While they might have agreed to hurt Harry, they might still have qualms about attacking Neville.

"Ron, you have to come to your senses," Harry pleaded.

But Ron didn't want to listen. He quickened his pace with his last few steps and all but tackled Harry to the ground. The muddy water splashed around them as they landed and Harry lost the grip on his wand on impact. Ron immediately wrapped his hands around Harry's throat and put all his weight onto them.

Harry tried kicking him off but Ron had always been larger and heavier than him. Neville sprang into action and was already trying to drag Ron away but the furious redhead was holding strong. Desperately, Harry clawed at Ron's fingers and his gaze shifted from the hands around his throat to Ron's face only to see that his expression had shifted into one of horrible despair. His teeth were gritted in agony and large, fat tears were rolling down his cheeks. Harry struggled harder, panicking when his lungs begged desperately for air. But then, Neville finally succeeded in tossing Ron to the ground, both of them breathing heavily from the effort.

Harry coughed and sputtered as he got to his knees, his hands instinctively searching his throat for any damage. Clumsily he grabbed his wand, ready to defend himself this time but Ron seemed unable to launch another attack. Almost horrified, he looked at Harry, staring anxiously while Harry continued to cough and wheeze.

"Harry-"

"Just go!" Harry snapped. "Get out of here."

Ron's gaze shifted to Neville who was still holding his wand.

Harry narrowed his eyes at him. "Try it one more time, and I _will_ kill you."

Ron's gaze hardened as well. "Give me back my wand," he said. "If you do, I'll let you go. This time."

Neville looked at Harry who inclined his head towards Ron. "Fine," he said and Neville threw Ron's wand into the dirt in front of him. "Now, leave."

Harry half-expected Ron to just go ahead and try again but this time, he merely picked up the wand, turned around and walked back over to the three remaining Gryffindors, not even glancing once over his shoulder to check on Harry. Without a word, he walked back into the treeline, followed closely by the rest of the group. Collin was the only one who still glanced at Harry before leaving. But how long would it be before he would also forget what Harry had done for him only to turn on him?

The pair stood there for a long time, barely moving a muscle. Harry knew that it wasn't safe for Neville to be with him. But he also realised that the boy could not possibly go back now. He had made his choice, just like Harry had.

"Thanks," Harry finally murmured.

"Yeah," Neville replied uneasily. "Any time."

* * *

Harry had led Neville back to his shelter which was not at all big enough for two people. But it was the best thing he had right now. They hardly spoke a word to each other while getting settled. Harry saw to the cut in his elbow. It wasn't as deep as he had feared. He extracted some bandages from his backpack and clumsily wound them around the wound to try and keep it clean. Harry then handed Neville a few of the blankets which the boy gratefully accepted and they both lay down next to each other. Harry was staring up at the night sky, knowing that he would not be able to go to sleep. He was just wondering if Neville was able to when the boy finally spoke.

"I'm sorry, Harry."

"You didn't do anything wrong," Harry said evenly.

"I'm still sorry," Neville argued. He rolled onto his elbow to look at Harry as he spoke. "I know that Ron didn't want to do those things. He's just scared for his family."

"No offence, Neville," Harry said. "But if that git thinks for one second that Voldemort will just let them go if he kills me, he's more stupid than I thought."

Neville flinched and Harry didn't know if it was because of the harshness in his voice or because of the name 'Voldemort'.

"I'm sorry," Neville repeated sullenly.

There was another long moment of silence. It's not as if Harry didn't realise what Ron's motivations were but he still couldn't get over it. Everyone in this forest had the same motivations. Ron was the first to genuinely try to kill him for it. Not even the Slytherins had tried to yet! Okay, that was probably mostly because they couldn't find him, but still.

"Neville," Harry then said softly. "Thank you." He knew very well that Neville was choosing to make a sacrifice here, though he doubted that the boy would want to talk about it. "I know this is less than ideal for you."

"I'll be alright," Neville said and Harry thought he really believed it. It was then that it came to Harry that, as far as Gryffindors went, Neville had to be the bravest one he knew.

* * *

Sometime during the night, Harry had been able to fall asleep after all. When he woke up, the pitch black of the night was exchanged with the grey of the day again. The cut on his arm hurt a bit when he stretched his arms to push himself up but it was nothing to be concerned about. Neville was already up and scouring the surrounding trees for what seemed to be mushrooms. Harry was about to tell him to be careful when he remembered that Herbology was Neville's strength.

"Good morning," Harry said.

Neville looked up and smiled. He already had his arms full of mushrooms and other plants. "Good morning, Harry," he said kindly. "Are you ready for some mushroom and fireweed breakfast?"

"Yeah," Harry agreed with a small smile that wasn't exactly genuine. "Yeah, that sounds good."

Neville chattered away about all sorts of inane things while he gingerly cut up the mushrooms. It wasn't necessary, per se, but Harry imagined that the boy liked having some form of normalcy right now. And if that came from cutting up plants and place them into uselessly nice-looking compositions before devouring them, Harry was okay with that.

"How sickeningly sweet."

Harry and Neville jumped up instantly when Voldemort's all-too-familiar voice cut through the trees. As he had done before, he projected his image into the patch of forest the boys were occupying at that moment. He flickered off and on but the image remained. And while his voice had sounded something akin to bored, his expression was clearly one of fury.

"You sick bastard!" Harry spat immediately. "It's really _me_ you want. Let everyone else go, already!"

"Ah, but I can't do that, Harry," Voldemort drawled. "After all, you are all here to serve a much greater purpose. I cannot simply let go those I have a need for as I'm sure you've realised."

"You'll never win this!" Harry said.

"No?" Voldemort replied. "And yet, your friend has already turned on you. And so easily as well, if I might add. It's only a matter of time before –" his gaze shifted to Neville, "the rest does the same."

To Harry's surprise, Neville didn't cower or plead. Instead, he firmly stood his ground and looked Voldemort square in the eye. Even if the man wasn't really there, that still counted as bravery in Harry's books.

"I will never betray Harry," Neville said confidently.

"Poor, misguided Neville," Voldemort said. "You forget that I have your parents in my custody. Surely you don't want them hurt any more than they already are."

Neville didn't even blink. "What could you possibly do to them that you haven't already?" he said angrily.

"I'm sure you are aware of the kind of pain I can cause," Voldemort replied. Harry thought he detected a hint of anger in his voice as if the cruel man's mask of calm was starting to crumble.

"I'm aware," Neville replied. "All too well. But my parents didn't succumb to your kind of pain. They fought until the very end to protect the good side. Our side. I know, without a doubt, that they would choose the same thing all over again. They would never forgive me for turning on Harry for this. And I wouldn't forgive myself!"

"Foolish boy," Voldemort spat. Now, he really was angry. "If they matter so little to you, I might as well go ahead and kill them."

"Do it, then," Neville replied evenly. "At this point, that would be a mercy. One that I will never be able to give them."

A commotion to Voldemort's left seemed to distract him for a fraction of a second and Harry could see that not only anger but also fear had overwhelmed the man. And then, the connection flickered badly before vanishing entirely. One moment more, the boys waited to see if Voldemort would reappear but when it became clear that he wouldn't, Neville sagged and fell to his knees, sobbing quietly.

"Neville," Harry said, carefully approaching him.

"I meant what I said," Neville told him shakily. "I meant every word. I love my parents so, so much. But the main thing I was always taught about them was how strongly they have fought for the cause." He wiped his eyes with his sleeve and sighed. "I know this is what they would have wanted. No matter how hard it is for me, I can't let their sacrifice be in vain. I can't let him win."

He looked at Harry with pleading eyes, as if looking for confirmation that what he was doing was the right thing. But that was something he could only decide for himself. A boy that had never even known his parents couldn't possibly weigh in. But he hoped that if he had been in the same position as Neville, he would have chosen the same thing.

"I know that they love you very much, Neville," Harry told him honestly. "I _know_ they do. No matter how deeply within."

Neville smiled sadly and nodded. "Someone once told me something similar," he said. "The heart remembers what the mind forgets."

Harry wrapped an arm around Neville's shoulders and pulled him close. Mulling that over, they ate the carefully cut mushrooms. Harry could only hope that Severus would somehow be able to keep the Longbottoms safe.

* * *

Harry and Neville had been scouring the premises, trying to stay hidden from any other students. Neville had told Harry where exactly the Gryffindors had been camping but – if they had any brains at all – they would have likely moved camp, by now. And while Harry was too angry to contemplate that the Gryffindors would be smart about anything, he had to take into account that Ron had a knack for strategy.

_Smart people being complete idiots._

All in all, the rest of the day had been ridiculously uneventful compared to the painful morning they had had. Having made sure that no one was in the near vicinity, Harry and Neville went back to their little camp, expanding it somewhat so they could both be sheltered entirely from the rain and wind.

Harry frowned when he saw the worry on Neville's face.

"I can check on them if you'd like," Harry offered.

Neville looked at him incredulously. "What? How?"

"It's complicated," Harry said. "I'll explain later. If you can watch over me for a while, I can check how your parents are doing."

Neville still seemed confused but his eyes narrowed in determination. "Harry, if you could do that… please."

Harry nodded. "Just kick me or something if something's happening, alright?"

Neville nodded and Harry found that he had complete faith in the boy. He secretly wished that he could have the same amount of faith in Ron but, clearly, that owl had flown the coop.

It was easier this time. Harry didn't need Severus to establish a connection. It was almost as if he could just find the Potion Master on instinct. Like an owl that knew exactly where to go. His mind didn't seem to have journeyed all that long when he finally found the comforting waters of Severus' Occlumency walls. He reached out and found that he was welcomed immediately, absorbed into Severus' shields where he felt safe. His eyes linked with Severus' with ease and he found himself looking into the contents of a green potion again.

**Harry. What has happened out there? The Dark Lord is furious.**

_Later. Are the Longbottoms still alive?_

Severus' eyes flickered over to the prisoners and stilled on Alice and Frank. They were sitting next to each other, staring into the distance. Despite their missing hands, they were smiling serenely.

_**They**_** are alive.**

_What do you mean? Did someone else die?_

**Another one of the Death Eaters. Antonin Dolohov.**

Severus' gaze fell on the third Death Eater corpse in the circle. It lay where it had fallen. Harry wondered if that was why Voldemort had been so distracted. He knew that he should probably get back and reassure Neville at this point but… he really needed someone to talk to.

_Ron attacked me._

**I… see. I take it you're upset with him for it.**

_Of course, I am! He literally tried to kill me, Severus. His hands were around my throat!_

Through Severus' eyes, Harry could see the shifting of the Death Eaters and Voldemort. Bellatrix was fidgeting something awful and one of the men that Harry didn't recognise was in the process of biting into his own hand where there were already several marks tinged with blood.

_Why is he doing this to all of us?_

**The specifics of this ritual are still unknown to me. But I will try to find out. In the meantime, I apologise for your friend's behaviour. He was trying to protect his family, I'm sure.**

A glance in the Weasleys' direction made Harry feel guilty all over again.

_I know. But even so, I never thought he would be able to, you know?_

**People are capable of a great deal when their loved ones are in danger.**

_Neville fought against him._

Harry wasn't sure why he was even telling Severus that. Even now, the man had no fondness for the boy who had blown up a large number of cauldrons on his watch.

**I… will admit that that is a welcome surprise.**

_He was the only one. The other Gryffindors just… sided with Ron. I guess they thought that if Ron, of all people, was willing to fight me, that left them with no choice._

**Except for Mr Longbottom.**

Harry chuckled, wondering if Severus could hear that.

_He talked back to Voldemort in a way that he would never talk back to you. He said that his parents wouldn't want him to fight me._

**I am sure that Alice and Frank would be incredibly proud of their son. It is true that they would never agree with being used as leverage by the Dark Lord.**

_I really thought he would have killed them._

**Sometimes, the Dark Lord's reasoning is quite childish. I can assure you that he will not kill the Longbottoms simply because of the fact that young Mr Longbottom has practically challenged him to do so.**

_So they're safe?_

**Perhaps. For now. Though I wouldn't say the same for Mr Longbottom. I assume he's still with you?**

_Yes. He's as alone as I am now, after fighting Ron like that._

**Keep an eye on him, if you will. The Dark Lord doesn't like to lose. I'm sure he'll try and retaliate soon.**

_Do you think he'll come over here himself?_

**No. The ritual won't allow any of us to enter the area you've all been dropped in. But there's plenty that he can influence, be it man or beast.**

Severus had long gone back to brewing his potion and was now adding the important muggle drug Harry had recommended. Harry was confident that none of the Death Eaters recognised it and would, therefore, not know just what they were taking.

_Severus. How are _you_ doing? You're not taking the potion yourself, are you?_

**You are kind to worry but there's no need. Since I'm not a part of the circle, I can sleep at night and eat regularly. I am not in any danger.**

_Will you talk to me again when you can? I mean… if you want to._

Harry could feel Severus' reassuring waters sweep over him.

**I will. When I can.**

_Thank you._

And then, Harry broke the connection. This time, there was no headache. He opened his eyes to find Neville staring at him. The night had truly fallen now and Harry noticed just how cold he'd gotten.

"They're alright," he then said. "They're alive. Voldemort apparently doesn't want to give you the satisfaction."

Neville smiled in relief. "That's good to hear," he said. "But er… how do you know all of this, Harry?"

Harry sighed. He supposed he had no choice but to explain. Especially if Neville was going to be his ally in all of this. His _only_ ally aside from Severus.

"Well, you know how Severus has been helping me with my visions, right?"

Neville frowned. "Severus?"

Harry waved that comment away. "Never mind that, right now. The truth is, though, that by helping me out, he established some kind of mental link with me. He didn't expect it to happen back then, but it did."

Neville visibly shuddered. "You have a mental link with… Snape?"

"It's really not so bad," Harry sighed.

"But how did that help you?" Neville asked. "Don't tell me You-Know-Who got him too!"

Harry shook his head. "He's not been captured, no. But he's… there, right now. And he's doing his best to help us as much as he can."

"How?" Neville demanded.

Why was Harry even keeping it a secret anymore? Would it be so bad for Neville to know that Severus was a double agent? That he was trying his best, right now, to sabotage Voldemort. He could trust Neville, without a doubt. The boy had just thrown _everything_ away for him. The least Harry could do was give him the thing that had been kept from him for so long. Information.

_Severus. Is Voldemort listening to me right now?_

**Not right now. He's a tad occupied with Bellatrix. Why?**

_I'll explain later._

Knowing that he wasn't endangering the Potions Master, Harry just went ahead with it. "Severus has been spying for Dumbledore," Harry explained. "He's pretending to be a Death Eater at Voldemort's side. That's why he can give us inside information right now."

Neville's eyes grew wide. "Are you sure you can trust him?"

Harry straightened a little. "I trust him with my life. Merlin knows that I've depended on him quite a lot, already."

"Yeah," Neville agreed. "I suppose that's true. It's… nice, I guess. That you have someone to rely on like that now. Even if it's… well…"

"Neville, you just stood up against Voldemort," Harry said proudly. "You didn't even flinch! How can you still be scared of your potions Professor?"

Neville smiled awkwardly. "I don't know," he said. "I guess I never blew up a cauldron in _You-Know-Who's_ classroom before."

"Well, I can assure you that after all of this is over, Severus will probably be going a lot easier on you," Harry said.

"Unlikely but a guy can hope, I guess," Neville said.

Neville laid back and folded his arms behind his head as he looked up at the night sky. "What do you think's going on with the Slytherins?"

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

"Well, three of them were supposed to be your friends, weren't they?" Neville pointed out.

"They were," Harry admitted. "But, so was Ron."

"Yeah, but do you think the Slytherins are also being pressured into doing this?"

"Some of them are," Harry said with certainty. "But others, I think, are all too happy to be here." Harry groaned. "I still can't believe that it was Umbridge who brought us all here."

Neville made a sound somewhere in the back of his throat. "Yeah, it looks like you were right about her all along."

Harry frowned. "What do you mean?"

Neville smiled. "Don't you remember? It was at the start of the year. You went on this epic tirade in Umbridge's class. Basically accused her of being a Death Eater, you did."

Harry laughed. "And to think I'm failing Divination. If Trelawney finds out about this, I'm sure to get an O! Merlin, Severus would be so upset."

Neville smiled at him. "He really _does_ mean a lot to you, doesn't he?"

"He does," Harry admitted.

"I can't believe I never noticed before," Neville said. "But, now that I think about it, it kind of makes sense, in a way."

"It does?" Harry asked, now turning his attention to the stars above as well. He stretched out his arm above him, only to wince when the forgotten cut stung in response. "What makes you say that?"

"Well," Neville said, "as much as I was always afraid of Snape, he's always struck me as… well, unhappy, I think. A little bit like you, actually."

Harry frowned. "Me?"

"Yeah," Neville said. "Not everyone notices people when they're being quiet. But I do. I know that there were times when you sat by yourself in front of the common room window. I know that you get lonely sometimes."

Harry didn't reply. While it was true that he wasn't always happy, he thought he had always done his best to hide it. He never expected Neville – the boy who always lost his toad – to be that observant.

"Snape strikes me as the lonely type, as well," Neville continued. "Maybe that's why he's always angry. Or, at least, he was."

Harry swallowed thickly. "I- I guess I never thought of him that way."

"That's why it makes sense, though," Neville said. "You helped each other this year. You had it pretty rough at first but I know it got better ever since you went to stay with him. And he sort of became better as well."

Harry chuckled. "Did that just come out of the mouth of Neville Longbottom?"

"Yes, but if you ever tell Snape that, I'll probably have to change schools."

"Ooh, maybe you can go to Beauxbatons," Harry said readily. "Wasn't there that one girl who you –"

"No!" Neville interjected. "No, I should probably take my chances with Snape after all. Hey, if you could tell me how you made him warm up to you, I could try to do the same thing."

"Ah, no… I wouldn't really recommend it," Harry replied uneasily.

They talked for the better part of an hour before finally calling it a night. Neville's fears for his parents had momentarily dissuaded while Harry's own thoughts turned to Severus. He hoped they could all go back to Hogwarts soon. And then Harry could show Severus just how wonderful Neville could really be. Maybe he could even get him to tutor the boy a bit.

To the sound of crickets and underneath the light of the moon, Harry's eyes finally fell shut. The only dreams to play through his head that night were casual memories of him and Severus, and the bond they had formed in the face of adversity.

* * *

_A few of you already expected Neville and Ron's actions. I'm quite happy about those, msyelf.  
Now, like many of you, I've been enjoying Ghost of Tsushima over the last few weeks. Not only that, but I'm spending a few hours each day learning Japanese. This means that I'll be reducing my updates to Fridays only for now. And possibly until the end of the story. I just don't have the time to write as much anymore._

_Please don't forget to review and I'll see you on Friday._


	52. Chapter 52

_Thank you all for your patience. I hope this chapter was worth the wait._

* * *

**Chapter 52**

Harry winced when a branch hit Neville square in the face as he released it. "Sorry," he said sheepishly.

"Used to walking alone, are you?" Neville pointed out but there was humour in his voice.

"Sort of," Harry said. "I'll be more careful."

"So, remind me why we're tracking down the others," Neville said softly. "I would think you'd want to go the other way."

"I explained to you how the area is becoming smaller, right?" Harry said. He ducked underneath a low-hanging branch. "Which means that we'll eventually all be forced into the same place. And I don't know how small that place will be."

"Ah," Neville said cleverly. "So you want to warn them about the barrier?"

"Not exactly," Harry sighed. "My point is that, sooner or later, I won't be able to hide anymore. If I ever want to fight back, I'll have to do it now."

Neville stopped for a moment. "Fight back?" he asked. "What do you mean?"

Harry turned around to face the boy. "I'm not planning on killing anyone or anything. I just want to incapacitate some people and bring them closer to the lake. If they're stunned, they won't be able to attack me anymore."

Neville frowned. "And they won't be able to protect themselves anymore either."

Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I'll take care of that. But the truth is that there's twenty-four of us here. Not counting us two, that leaves twenty-two, eight of them Slytherins. If even a few of them get it in their heads to actually do what Voldemort wants, I'll be toast. I'm not about to sit around and wait until there's nothing else I can do."

"You could talk to them," Neville proposed. "Win them over."

Harry started moving again. "If I do that, I endanger their families. Maybe I can do so later when Voldemort's preoccupied with other things but right now, it's just not safe."

"Yeah, I get it," Neville mumbled. "I just wish it could be different."

"It's already different from what I imagined," Harry said, this time holding a branch as Neville walked past its range. "I didn't expect to have an ally with me."

Neville sighed. "Some of us know what's really at stake," he said. "That's why I think you should try talking to everyone first."

"But their families –"

"Everyone's aware of that, aren't they?" Neville interrupted. Harry stopped walking for a moment to look at the boy. "It should be a choice they get to make. You shouldn't take that away from anyone."

A voice inside Harry's head scoffed and muttered, **Gryffindors**.

Perhaps it should have come as some sort of shock that Severus was so readily and easily commenting in Harry's mind. Or, perhaps, the shock should have come from the fact that Severus had been able to hear Harry and Neville's conversation. But the fact of the matter was that, whatever this was, it felt completely natural to Harry. As if it was only the next step of an already largely developed skill. But for the first word to escape Severus' mind this way to be a derisive nod towards Harry's house was kind of irritating. Maybe Severus wasn't even aware of it yet.

Harry must have looked annoyed because then Neville asked, "What?"

"Nothing," Harry said quickly. "Look, you're probably right. I don't think most of them will take kindly to an offer for an alliance but I can try."

"I think you're underestimating people's loyalties to the light side," Neville said importantly.

Harry smiled gently. "Most people aren't as amazing as you are, Neville. Even Ron…"

"He'll come around," Neville said. "He's usually a smart guy. He'll figure out that he's wrong, eventually."

A distant laugh made Harry raise his hand in order to stop Neville from advancing. He brought his index finger to his lips to ask for silence and Neville nodded his understanding. Whoever was ahead of them, Harry knew that he had to be cautious. With Neville close behind him, Harry advanced slowly towards the increasingly loud voices. He held his wand at the ready, just in case he would have to hex someone but when they finally reached the edge of a small clearing, he relaxed somewhat.

The Hufflepuffs sat in a small circle around a campfire. They were cooking fish while talking animatedly among themselves. If Harry hadn't known any better, he would have thought they were on a camping trip together. They all looked filthy but they had also built an impressive-looking shelter in the trees above them. Someone who didn't know what to look for would probably not even have noticed it.

Zacharias laughed at something Justin whispered in his ear and removed one of the fish from the fire. The smell was intoxicating.

"Just give it a try," Neville whispered softly.

Harry nodded sharply. It was the least he could do for his only ally. And besides, Neville had a point. The more people that were on Harry's side, the more likely it was that they would all get out of there alive.

So he stepped out of the treeline to make himself known. It took far too long for any of the Hufflepuffs to notice him but when Hannah Abbott finally did, her eyes widened and she elbowed Susan Bones who sat next to her. That's when the rest of them all jumped up to face Harry. At the same time, Neville went to stand next to him, clumsily raising his hand in greeting. Harry noticed that no one had drawn their wands yet.

"Er… hi," Neville said. "That ah… smells great."

"Thanks," Justin Finch-Fletchley said uneasily. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be with the rest of the Gryffindors?"

Zacharias laughed a bit strangely. "You're not ambushing us or anything, are you?" he asked. Harry noticed that the boy's eyes flitted from tree to tree as if to discover some kind of assailant.

"No," Harry replied. "There are no ambushes and no other Gryffindors. It's just me and Neville. I promise." Against his better judgement, he stuffed his wand back into his pocket and raised his hands in a show of trust. "I just want to talk. That's all."

"I don't know, Potter," Susan said. "I'm pretty sure that avoidance is the best thing we can do for you. After all, You-Know-Who's got something hanging over all of us."

"You're right, of course," Harry said. "And I know that he's already done some horrible stuff. But whatever he's doing, it's not going as well as he expected. He's starting to become distracted, I think."

"How can you know for sure?"

As if to answer that question, a sudden vision flashed before Harry's eyes. He was watching a Death Eater crumble to the ground. Voldemort grabbed him by the collar and started yelling at him but the man remained unresponsive. And then the vision was over. Harry silently thanked Severus' well-timed information.

"I just know," Harry said with much certainty. "Trust me on this. He's not watching us right now."

Neville glanced at him knowingly but kept his mouth shut.

"Well, by now I know better than to question your capabilities," Susan shrugged. "Go on then. Talk."

They all sat down and Harry extended his hands towards the fire, welcoming the warmth on his, chilled hands. "Whatever this ritual is, Voldemort is not as is control as he'd like us to believe," he said. "His main goal is clear. He wants me dead. The question is, why would he need one of you to do it _for_ him? Especially since he's always wanted to kill me himself, before."

Susan frowned but Harry didn't know if it was because of the implied past murder attempts or because she was thinking about what he had said.

"I don't know the complete answer but it has to be because it's one of the conditions of the success of his ritual."

"And what would he gain from it?" Justin asked. "Why go through all this trouble?"

"Don't ask me how I know this but he seems to believe that it will give him unimaginable power," Harry replied. "Enough to waltz into Hogwarts and off Dumbledore in the span of seconds. If this ritual succeeds, he will be unstoppable. That's probably why he's willing to risk so much on this."

"Risk?" Leanne asked. "What's he risking?"

Harry sucked in the air between his teeth. "I'm not sure how or why," he said slowly, "but the Death Eaters aren't doing well. Some of them are seriously injured. Others have dropped dead. And every time something like that happened, Voldemort was furious."

"Well, isn't that normal?" Leanne replied. "Anyone would be angry if their er… followers died."

"I don't think so," Harry said. "There's something… off about this entire situation. The point is that I think there's a very real chance that we can beat him."

The Hufflepuffs all looked at each other.

"Harry," Susan then said. "We aren't like you. We aren't used to just walking into the Chamber of Secrets to kill the basilisk. We've never fought dementors or competed in a tournament. We're just normal people. Not brave like you Gryffindors."

Harry smiled. "You know," he said. "Dumbledore once told me that he thought that Hufflepuff was the strongest of all four houses."

Zacharias scoffed. "Hilarious, Harry."

"No, I'm serious. More than anything, he believes in the power of love and friendship. And he says that you can find most of that in Hufflepuff."

Hannah shook her head. "A nice sentiment but how's that going to help us fight You-Know-Who?"

"I honestly don't know yet," Harry admitted. "But you know that we can't let him win."

Neville chuckled. "And he's not just saying that because he doesn't want to die."

"Though that's also true," Harry said, playfully jabbing Neville with his elbow. "Look, what I'm basically asking for now is if you'll stand with me when the time comes. I promise that I'll only ask if Voldemort is too distracted to focus on your families."

Susan sighed. "This whole situation is nuts," she said. "But I know that my aunt would want me to do the right thing. It's not you who put us in this situation, after all." She then looked at her peers. "I mean, if you all agree, of course."

They all looked at each other for a moment and then Justin offered Harry and Neville a fish. "Here," he said. "If we want to take that bastard down, we'll need you at your full strength."

The entire group relaxed then, and Harry gratefully accepted the fish. It sure beat the raw fish he had eaten before.

Despite the shaky alliance Harry and Neville had formed with the Hufflepuffs, they still chose to sleep separately. Maybe it was the Slytherin side of him but he knew that he couldn't be too careful. He had, of course, told them about the shrinking barrier that threatened to maim or kill anyone who got too close but also knew that it was still likely to be far away at that point. He lay on his back, looking at the dark canopy of the trees and listened to the faraway hooting of owls. Somewhere in the very far distance, something roared. Just once.

Neville was sound asleep, using his arms for a pillow. Whenever he breathed in, his nose whistled ever so slightly. It often did the same thing back at Hogwarts and the sound felt sort of nostalgic.

Harry had almost happily called this day a win. A small victory over Voldemort, even if the man didn't know it yet. But when the stunning spell hit him, his heart sank into the pit of his stomach and he cursed himself for how careless he had been. A female form walked past him, strangely ignoring him as she approached Neville. When she crouched down over the boy's sleeping form, Harry recognised her. Hannah Abbott. She glanced at Harry and smiled wickedly, placing her index finger over her lips. "Shhh."

It was not as if Harry could have spoken even if he wanted to. Hannah took off her outer robes and shook her hair loose before carefully shaking Neville wake.

"Huh? Wha –" Neville looked up and frowned when he saw the girl. "Hannah? What are you doing here?"

"Sorry to wake you," Hannah said in a sultry tone of voice. "I was just feeling so scared and alone."

Neville shifted a little. "Do you want me to wake up Harry?"

"I'm not here for him, Neville," Hannah said and she stroked his cheek with the back of her hand. "I'm here for you."

Harry wondered what in the seven hells he had gotten involved in. Was this just Hannah Abbott trying to confess to Neville? If so, she was _way_ out of line. He tried to move but it was futile.

"For me?" Neville stammered. He gently took Hannah's hand and removed it from his cheek. "Look, I really think you should be with the rest of your group. We're not safe to be around."

"None of them are as fun as you are, though," Hannah replied, pouting a bit. "Are you saying you don't want to hang out with me?"

Neville glanced at Harry but didn't notice anything amiss. Probably because of the darkness. "It's not that," he said softly. "You're very pretty and all but –"

"Thank you!" Hannah said. "You're always so sweet, Neville. It's why I noticed you, you know."

"M-Me?"

In one quick motion, Hannah removed her shirt and for a moment, Harry thought he had made a horribly squeamish noise when he noticed that it had come from Neville. Hannah's chest was now completely bare in the frigid autumn air. And while there wasn't a whole lot of light, the faint filtered beams of the moon granted just enough of it to be able to make out the soft curves of Hannah's exposed body.

The continued noise told Harry that Neville wanted to speak but didn't really manage to.

_What's going on? Who does that kind of thing? This isn't normal behaviour, is it?_

If Severus heard Harry's frantically confused thoughts, he didn't comment on them.

"Go ahead," Hannah said, her voice deep and seductive. "I know you want to touch them."

Neville – who was still completely caught off guard with no immediate hope for recovery – didn't resist when Hannah firmly pushed him down and climbed on top of him, straddling his lap. She leaned over and caught his lips in a passionate yet almost desperate kiss. Neville reciprocated immediately. Hannah removed Neville's shirt with such violent force that it tore but Neville didn't seem to care.

_Damn it. She could have just asked me to leave! Girls are bloody crazy._

Hannah's hands violently scratched Neville's chest but, even though he hissed, he didn't stop the kiss.

"Oh, Neville. You'll be mine," Hannah whispered. Her hand twisted firmly in Neville's hair and when she pulled it too harshly, he lifted his chin and groaned. At that moment, Hannah took the opportunity to bite down hard on Neville's neck.

"Ow! Bloody hell!"

Blood trickled down Neville's collar bone when Hannah bit him again. Her nails dug deep into his flesh as she laughed. Neville started struggling but, for whatever reason, Hannah seemed to have the upper hand, pinning Neville down easily with her thighs.

"Oh, you don't like that?" she asked innocently. "I'm convinced that a certain part of you is _very_ excited for me to continue, though."

"You're crazy!" Neville shouted. "Get off! Harry!"

"Oh, don't worry about him," Hannah hissed. "He won't be interfering any time soon."

"What have you done to him? No, stop!"

That's when Hannah snapped her fingers and a knife materialised seemingly out of nowhere.

"Just give in, my sweet," Hannah cooed. "It will all be over soon."

While Harry had been horrified before, he was even more so now. This was _not_ normal. Whatever was going on with Hannah, she was clearly under the effect of a curse or something. Harry tried struggling against the body bind again but there was nothing he could do. He saw Neville reach for his wand but it wasn't close by enough. If only it was a few inches closer.

Hannah when to stab Neville in the chest when he, with a mighty push of his strength, finally threw Hannah off of him, grabbed his wand and stunned the girl with a quick curse of his own.

For a moment, he simply stood there. As if he was contemplating what the hell had just happened. He raised a hand to his throat and winced when it came into contact with the bleeding bite marks. Then, he seemed to remember Harry.

_Finally_.

Neville turned to him and when he bent down, he finally noticed that Harry's eyes were wide open.

"Finite Incantatem," he muttered. Harry felt the magical bonds release him and sat up in one quick motion that aggravated his back.

"Are you okay?" Neville asked.

"I'm fine," Harry answered quickly. "What about you, though? You're bleeding."

"I know," Neville said sullenly, glancing at Hannah. "It's nothing, I don't think. I just feel like a complete idiot."

"No, I er… I thought she was coming on to you at first, as well," Harry admitted. "I guess that makes us both idiots."

"Oh, Merlin," Neville groaned. "You mean to say that you saw all that?"

"I was petrified, not asleep," Harry said. "Of course I saw."

Neville looked at Hannah and chuckled awkwardly. "I knew girls didn't like me but I didn't know it was _that_ bad."

Harry grabbed Hannah's wand as well as the odd knife that she still held tightly. He grabbed the outer robes Hannah had removed earlier and tossed them on top of her. "Let's wake her up, okay?" he said. "I don't know what just happened but I doubt this was all her."

"Okay," Neville said slowly. "Just be careful, alright?"

"Rennervate," Harry muttered and with a sharp intake of breath, Hannah came to again. She sat up in the same sharp way Harry had before, causing her robes to slide off her again. Quickly realising that error, Hannah grabbed them and clumsily used them to shield her half-naked body.

"Harry," she said. "Neville. What happened? What am I doing here? What did you do to me?"

"We didn't do _anything_," Harry said. "You're the one who came here."

"What?" Hannah stammered, her eyes flitting to Neville again. Harry noticed how she didn't want to look at Harry. As if she only had eyes for the other Gryffindor. "No, I… why would I do that?"

"What's the last thing you remember?" Neville asked carefully. He squatted so he was at eye-level with Hannah. Careless, in Harry's opinion, but the girl didn't seem at all eager to attack him again."

"I was back with my group," she said. "The rest turned in for the night while I was keeping watch."

"And then?" Harry urged.

"Then, I was suddenly here… like this!" she said. Harry caught the accusation in her voice.

"We didn't do anything to you," he said. "You stunned me and attacked Neville."

"What? No!" Completely horrified, Hannah really looked at Neville, finally taking in the bloody streaks on his neck. Clumsily, she crawled a bit closer to him while still keeping herself covered up. Tears were starting to roll down her cheeks. "I would never attack you like that," she pleaded. "Never you. You have to believe me!"

Harry didn't know what to say. Even after the attack, he still felt as if he was in the middle of a romantic drama.

"I believe you," Neville said. "It's this place. The people."

Relief overcame the girl and she finally decided to don her robes. Courteously, Harry looked away as she did so.

"Are you okay?" Hannah asked.

"Yeah," Neville said uneasily. "I just never expected you to be into this kind of stuff."

Harry was sure that if it hadn't been so dark, Hannah would have looked as red as Ron's hair. "I'm not!" she said. "Look, I… I should get back, okay?"

"Hold on," Harry said. "How can we be sure that you won't try this again?"

"I told you I didn't mean to," Hannah argued. "I don't know what's going on but I'd sooner chop off my own wand hand than hurt Neville." Again with that flittering look.

"It's fine," Neville said. "I know you won't. Do you want us to help you get back?"

"Merlin, no!" Hannah said. "No, I'll just go by myself. I'm sorry. Please just give me my wand back, alright?"

Harry did so and watched as she made a very odd and awkward sort of bow. "I'm so sorry for the trouble," she said. "Please don't tell anyone about this, okay? I'm not that kind of girl. I promise." She seemed almost desperate for the boys to believe her.

"We won't," Neville said solemnly.

She nodded and finally turned around and hurried off. Harry was about to turn to Neville and question the wisdom of letting Hannah go like that when his mind was invaded by another one of Severus' visions.

* * *

Silently, Severus stood at the side-lines as he watched Bellatrix writhe on the ground in obvious pain. She scratched at her own skin with such ferocity that she left deep, bleeding marks all over her face and arms. When that didn't satisfy her, she started clawing at the stone foundation beneath her, breaking and cracking her nails. She wailed in despair and agony as her very flesh turned ashen in colour.

"Master!" she screamed. "My lord! Help me!"

Voldemort seemed absolutely livid. He watched Bellatrix suffer in silence but his jaw was clenched in anger and his hands were balled into fists. Nagini was silent and unmoving behind him as if she were a statue in the dark.

"Master, I'm sorry! I thought it would work. Help me, please! I did it for you. I do _everything_ for you. You have _all_ my love, My Lord. All of it!"

Bellatrix' screeching was almost enough for Harry, watching from beyond the clearing, to feel sorry for her. Almost.

Voldemort finally broke his stoicism and kneeled next to Bellatrix who hastily scrambled to take his robes into her bloodied and mangled hands. Tears ran down her face and her breathing became increasingly ragged. Most of the other Death Eaters kept chanting their incantations but a couple of them were looking at the Black witch in fear and disbelief.

When Voldemort spoke, his voice was cold and without pity. "You'll find that failure will result in a punishment that not even I can spare you from," he said. "You should have put more of an effort into your attempt to please me. But you failed."

Bellatrix's beautiful hair was falling out in clumps, turning to ashes as it hit the stone circle. "I won't fail you next time," she pleaded. "Please."

Voldemort looked at her in disgust when Bellatrix coughed up some blood. "It would appear that there won't be a next time," he said coldly. He got up and turned away from the dying witch. Her breaths rattled loudly for a few more times before she finally breathed her last. No one moved her. Just like no one had bothered to move the others. Then, Voldemort approached Severus, who immediately kneeled before him.

"Do what you must to make the next batch more potent, Severus," Voldemort said evenly. "Do not worry about the side effects. I need the rest to double their efforts."

"Of course, my Lord," Severus replied obediently.

Voldemort turned back around and Harry noticed Severus' confusion about the lack of threats and cruel insults. Instead, the man just walked back to his position in the circle, his shoulders slightly hunched, and his eyes trained on the pulsing pillar in the middle. The hostages near the edge of the clearing almost seemed to be forgotten.

_What's happening?_

**Bellatrix failed.**

Severus didn't even seem to be surprised that Harry was there again.

_Failed doing what?_

**Apparently, she wanted to take her revenge on Mr Longbottom. She was quite adamant about it, actually.**

_She could do that_?

**It would appear that, indirectly, my colleagues can do a lot of things.**

_Don't call them that. And if that's the case, why don't they just kill me and get it over with?_

**The rules of this ritual are becoming clearer. It has come to my attention that the Death Eaters cannot physically harm you. The ritual will not allow it. I am, as of yet, unsure if the same rule applies to the Dark Lord but I assume that it does. The ones who should kill you are those on your side of the ritual.**

_Okay… so what if no one does?_

**Both action and inaction seem to be having an effect on the Death Eaters as well as the Dark Lord. His ranks are down by half already. And those still standing are not doing too well.**

Harry saw that Severus was right. The others either seemed to be going out of their mind or carried physical injuries that Harry knew hadn't been caused by Voldemort.

_What about the hostages?_

**For now, the Dark Lord has let them be. Perhaps he feels that he can't risk another situation like the one that occurred with Mr Longbottom. Or, perhaps, he has simply forgotten about them. His mind is slipping as well.**

_Can't you set them free or anything?_

**It would endanger my position, Harry, you know that. But we will get them out eventually.**

_We?_

**You're doing admirably. Not that I expected anything different from you. You do surprisingly well when thrown into the unknown.**

_And you? Are you doing… well?_

**Well enough. Worry not about me. Go back.**

Severus' waters embraced Harry's mind for a moment before gushing down the path back.

**Go on.**

Harry didn't argue. The connection that had come automatically broke and Harry blinked to look into the concerned eyes of Neville.

"What's wrong?" Neville asked. "Was it another vision?"

Harry scrambled back up. "Yeah," he said.

"Any news?" Neville asked, clearly fearing for the worst.

"Yeah," Harry said. "Good news actually. Bellatrix just… died."

"Died?" Neville repeated. "Are you sure?"

"Definitely," Harry said. "Whatever happened to Hannah, I'm pretty sure she was behind it. The fact that you overcame that little… show did her in."

Wide-eyed, Neville stared at his hands. "Wow," he whispered. "Just like that?" He sighed deeply and Harry wasn't sure if it was in relief or disappointment. "This game is really something."

Harry nodded and lightly bumped Neville's shoulder with his own. "Yeah," he agreed. "It really is."

After a long and painful silence, Harry cleared his throat, deciding that he should say something. Anything.

"So," he said. "Breasts."

Neville snorted heavily. "Yeah," he said just as awkwardly. "They're ah… pretty great, aren't they?"

"Probably even better when not attached to someone trying to kill you, though," Harry added.

"Oh, for sure," Neville agreed. "Though Hannah usually is pretty great."

"Oh," Harry said. "I noticed. She –"

**If you would please refrain from discussing the reproductive organs of my female students, I would be most appreciative.**

Harry groaned. "Severus," he said aloud. "How are you even listening in? Scratch that. Why are you?"

**Hard enough as it is to close off my mind from this link we share between us, it becomes quite impossible when your mind becomes as heavily occupied as yours is.**

"My mind is not occupied!" Harry exclaimed. "Neville, tell him!"

"What?" Neville stammered. "Are you saying that P-Professor Snape heard? Did he give us detentions?"

"We're not at Hogwarts. He can't give us detentions," Harry said.

**Hmmm. We shall see about that later.**

_Didn't you have some potions to brew?_

**The nonsense your teenage mind spews makes that particularly hard to do.**

_Fine! I'll close the door on you. Talk to you later._

Without waiting for a reply, Harry raised his Occlumency walls. The connection with Severus' mind broke and he breathed a sigh of relief.

He locked eyes with Neville before breaking down into laughter.

"Harry?" Neville said. "What's happening?"

"This is just so unreal," he said. "I'm discussing girls with Neville Longbottom in this forest of death only to get caught by Severus Snape."

Neville chuckled a bit. "Yeah," he said. "I suppose that's a bit odd."

Harry sighed and lay back down. "Come on," he said. "Victory aside, we really do need to go to sleep."

"You're right," Neville agreed. "There's more Death Eaters to take down tomorrow. Somehow…"

Harry smiled. "We can do it together. Good night, Neville."

"Good night, Harry."

A few minutes later, Harry had almost fallen asleep when Neville's soft voice woke him again. "Harry."

"What?"

"Do you think that Hannah… you know, might like me?"

Harry chuckled. "She would be an idiot not to. Why don't you ask her out when we get out of here?"

"You know what? Maybe I will."

Finally, the quiet night claimed them both with only the hooting of owls in the distance to keep them company.

* * *

_This heat wave in Belgium is frying my brain! The next update should be ready by Friday. I just hope I can ignore the heat to get to writing.  
__Please let me know what you thought of the chapter. I decided against a trigger warning in the end because the thing that happened to Neville wasn't too explicit._

_Thanks for reading!_


	53. Chapter 53

**Chapter 53**

Despite the minor yet awkward altercation with Hannah, Harry counted the encounter with the Hufflepuffs as a success. They were still being careful, of course, but Harry expected that he would be able to count on them when the time came. It made him glad that he had listened to Neville instead of incapacitating anyone that could be a threat.

Which is why they were now scouring the forest as they looked for the next group. Harry knew that he was in the area that he had last seen the Slytherins in and couldn't help but be wary. All of the other house groups consisted of five people but the Slytherins were with eight. Even with Neville on his side, Harry didn't think they'd be able to take on seven of them. Harry didn't count Tom as the boy was likely not in a fighting condition.

"I know this was sort of my idea and all," Neville said softly, as to not disturb the creatures that surely still lurked nearby. "But I'm not really sure about the Slytherins, Harry."

Harry hummed thoughtfully. "I understand how you feel but I really don't think that all of them want to be here. And one of them was already hurt."

"I don't know," Neville sighed. "It's a very risky gamble to take. Theo, I can probably trust after having duelled with him in the DA and everything. And Tom wouldn't ever attack you, even if he hadn't been hurt. But the rest…"

"The rest didn't get a chance to prove themselves," Harry said, pushing a few branches aside. "Maybe if you had gotten to know them, you'd trust _them_ as well."

"Malfoy was in the DA," Neville pointed out. "I was starting to trust him."

Harry sighed and stopped for a moment to look at his friend. "I know," he said. "Me too. I hate what he did but I can't denounce all Slytherins just because of one guy."

"That's fair," Neville admitted.

**I appreciate your open mind, Harry.**

Harry scoffed inwardly. This improved link might prove to be exceedingly annoying once they all got out of this predicament but, for now, Harry was grateful for having it.

_Literally or figuratively?_

**Both, I think. I find our strengthened bond to be somewhat… calming. Despite having to listen in to the occasional dribble that can be expected from a teenage mind, I'm pleased to know almost constantly that you are still doing alright.**

_Yes, well, this better not be permanent._

**Once the danger of the Dark Lord invading your mind has worn off, I will be able to dissolve the link. Have no fear.**

Harry sighed and started climbing the uphill slope he encountered. He was starting to see clear proof that people had been here recently. The Slytherins were probably close by.

_Speaking of Voldemort, how is he doing?_

**Are you enquiring how his day has been?**

_Would you answer the question like a normal person? Does he seem agitated? Worried? Pleased?_

**Distracted. And very much so. He's keeping his orders rather monosyllabic and he's clearly starting to save his magic. I feel like this ritual is putting more strain on him than he originally anticipated.**

_And the Death Eaters?_

**Slowly descending into madness. It is quite convenient that their physical and mental collapse was expected by the Dark Lord when he initiated this ritual. And while he certainly never expected results quite this catastrophic, he has nothing to compare his attempt to. **

_Meaning_?

**He has no idea that the potion is accelerating their demise. But the Death Eaters are finally starting to realise their role in the grand scheme of things. Suffice to say they are not happy about it.**

_It's a bit too late for that, I think._

**For them, perhaps. But it might prove to be convenient for you**.

Harry stood still for a moment and allowed his gaze to follow the invisible thread he felt connect him with Severus. He couldn't see a thing but it bolstered him.

_You think I can win this, don't you?_

**I believe that you are not done surprising us just yet. Though I hope that this one will be the last of it.**

"Harry?"

Harry looked at Neville who was regarding him with something akin to amusement. "Yes?"

"Is Professor Snape talking to you again?"

Harry chuckled lightly. "Can you believe that he's actually more talkative this way?"

"Well, being _less_ talkative is not really possible," Neville argued.

Harry snorted. "He actually talks a lot when he's nervous about something. Makes these really long sentences."

"He always does that," Neville countered in amusement.

"Even longer than usual," Harry insisted. "It's like he's going through his mental dictionary to calm himself or something."

**You do realize that I am aware of your conversation?**

Harry rolled his eyes. "Now, he just seems bored, though."

Before Neville could respond, they both heard the sound of people talking. Carefully making their way past the trees, they approached a large group of students clad in black and green.

Harry saw the Slytherins far before they were even aware of him. They were sat rather ungraciously in a seemingly random spot in the forest that didn't even pretend to be suitable for any kind of shelter. They were noticeably far away from the edge of the ever-shrinking barrier but that appeared to be the only smart thing they had accomplished since Harry last saw them.

They were all looking tired, dishevelled and dirty. Tom lay on his back, sweat beading on his forehead despite the frosty temperatures. Whether it was because of the pain or because of a fever, Harry couldn't say. Theo was sitting next to the boy, speaking to him in soft murmurs, earning him the occasional annoyed look from Parkinson. Harry glanced at Neville who was staring at Tom in quiet consternation. Harry had told the boy that the Slytherin had gotten hurt but he supposed that it was different seeing the damage first hand.

Now that they were here, Harry became a bit less certain of himself. He knew, for a fact, that he would have to be careful of the likes of Parkinson and Zabini. Crabbe and Goyle seemed to be divided when it came to their convictions in this mess and Malfoy… well, Harry supposed that he was likely the biggest threat out of all the Slytherins. Not only was he an admittedly good dueller, but he had also managed to weasel his way into the DA, picking up on things that might give him an edge when fighting Harry or any of the other members. Sure, he was looking sullen and distracted now but Harry was not about to fall for the blonde's trap a second time. Malfoy would have to go down and fast.

Harry drew his wand and waited until Neville had done the same. He then aimed at Malfoy and cast a stunning hex at the same moment that Neville shifted his weight a bit too much, causing the loud crack of a twig beneath his foot. Even if the Slytherins were clearly not equipped to deal with the forest, most of them were still able fighters and that one sound was enough for Malfoy to quickly readjust his position and evade Harry's attack.

"Well, well," the blonde drawled as he turned his attention to Harry. "Attacking someone in the back? Not very Gryffindor of you, Potter."

Parkinson laughed. "How nice of you to come to _us_," she mocked. "That saves us the trouble. _Reducto_!"

Harry blocked her curse easily and stepped forward. "Still playing _his_ games, I see," he said. "And here I thought that Slytherins were supposed to be ambitious."

"Meaning?" Malfoy drawled.

"Meaning that supporting the losing party doesn't seem ambitious to me. Not at all."

A few of the Slytherins laughed. "And what makes you think that the Dark Lord is losing?" Zabini mocked. "As far as I can tell, you're locked in a forest with a ton of people trying to kill you while he's patiently waiting for your death."

"Does it really seem that simple to you?" Harry asked. "Is that what he told you? Because, right now, he's in a lot of trouble."

No one laughed this time.

"How dare you?" Parkinson asked with a trembling voice.

Harry noticed that none of them had fired a hex at him yet, even though most of the Slytherins had drawn their wands.

"He might not have told you this, since he doesn't think you're important enough, but his mind and mine are connected. I know things."

"What things?" Goyle asked, earning himself a glare from Crabbe.

"Several of his Death Eaters died already," Harry said, trying to sound casual and certain. "And the rest of them are growing weaker by the minute." He looked at Malfoy importantly. "You didn't honestly think that even Voldemort could perform a ritual without paying the price for it, did you?"

Malfoy seemed to lose the bit of colour he had. "The price?"

Harry nodded. "I'm not even sure that the Death Eaters really knew what was going to happen before Voldemort started all of this. But they're sure as hell not enjoying it now. Meanwhile, I'm still fine."

Crabbe growled. "Lies," he spat. "You're trying to trick us."

"Look at your housemate," Harry said, gesturing towards Tom. "I didn't do that. Voldemort did. How are you not seeing that he doesn't care about any of you? All he cares about is power and the means to get that. If that means sacrificing all of you, he won't think twice about doing that."

"Like you're any different," Greengrass spat. "Don't pretend – even for one second – that you care about us."

"About _you_?" Harry said. "No, I couldn't care less. But I would never willingly kill you either. Besides, there are Slytherins that I _do_ care about." His gaze shifted to Malfoy for a small moment. "And some that I used to."

For a moment Harry seemed to see a flicker of sorrow cross Malfoy's features but it was gone before Harry could make sure. It didn't matter. Whatever the blonde's reasons, he had still betrayed Harry.

"The ritual will be complete once you're dead," Parkinson hissed. "So whatever is going on right now, it can be stopped by killing you."

Harry raised his chin a little in defiance. "You think you can take me, Parkinson?" he asked her. "You're welcome to try."

"What are you doing?" Neville hissed but Harry ignored him. "Those who are smart enough to see what is really going on here can help me get out of here. Help me get rid of Voldemort once and for all."

Several of the Slytherins looked at one another as if to see what the rest was thinking. But a couple of them, Harry knew, were certain of their allegiance. And it was not to Harry.

Zabini raised his wand and pointed it at Harry's chest at the same time that Malfoy and Parkinson did. All three cast a curse at Harry which he managed to dodge. Two of the curses collided with one another, causing a small explosion.

Neville went to stand next to Harry and raised a shield just in time to block Crabbe's stunner. "Ventus!" he then screamed, knocking the brutish Slytherin back a few steps.

Flicking his wand, Zabini moved a large rock from somewhere behind her and flung it towards Harry at full speed. "Arresto momentum," he said and the rock slowed down significantly before Harry simply stepped out of its path. "You're going to need to do a lot better than that if you're planning on killing me."

His taunt had the desired effect of making the Slytherins even angrier and more irate. "Confringo!" Parkinson screeched. Harry quickly raised his robes in front of him with his left hand, casting 'Duro' on them with his right. The fabric hardened, stopping the weak blasting curse without issue.

"Aguamenti!" Neville exclaimed, aiming a column of water at Crabbe, who tried to dodge but didn't count on the hem of his robes getting caught in a tree branch. Momentarily floundering like an idiot, he took the brunt of the watery attack but then he raised a shield to finally cut off the stream. "You'll pay for that, Longbottom," he growled. "Furnunculus!"

Neville tried blocking but he was too slow and suddenly, his skin erupted in painful boils.

"Focus, Neville!" Harry yelled, already blocking the next couple of attacks from Parkinson. He kept glancing at Malfoy who looked more than ready to fight but was, for now, merely keeping up a defensive stance.

"Serpensortia!" Crabbe shouted. "No!" Zabini exclaimed but it was too late. A vicious-looking cobra was flung from Crabbe's wand and landed right in front of Neville who took a step back.

Harry was quick to respond. "Don't attack my friend," he hissed at the snake. "Attack the one behind you."

The snake looked at him for a moment before nodding ever so slightly and turning around to face Crabbe with its teeth bared. Malfoy looked ready to facepalm.

"It's no wonder that Voldemort is losing with goons like you," Harry taunted. He parried another curse coming from Parkinson and heard it slam into a tree. Parkinson was getting angrier by the second. She cast hex after hex, the spells following each other up in quick succession. But they were sloppy and weak and Harry doubted this duel would last much longer. He saw Malfoy shift out of the corner of his eye and decided that he couldn't stay out of this much longer.

He cast a stunning hex at Malfoy but the blonde deflected it only narrowly, accidentally redirecting it towards Zabini, rendering the boy unconscious.

"Watch it," Parkinson spat. She cast a variety of hexes and curses Harry's way, all of which he managed to block or evade. Neville was holding up well against Crabbe who, despite all of his bravado, seemed to be worse of a dueller than Neville. Harry couldn't help but feel proud of what the boy had accomplished after so many DA sessions. He cast another hex at Malfoy, watching in confusion how Malfoy deflected it once more, taking out Parkinson in the process. Then, he repositioned himself and watched Harry closely as if waiting for the next attack.

_What is he doing?_

Malfoy was supposed to be a fantastic dueller. He hardly ever made mistakes and when he did, he didn't make them twice in a row. Taking out his own teammates like that was a first-year mistake. Harry could not believe that that wasn't on purpose.

Apparently, neither could his housemates.

"Draco!" Crabbe snapped. "Are you confunded or something? What are you doing?"

"It wasn't me," Malfoy insisted. "It was Potter. He's trying to pit us against each other with some parlour tricks."

While Draco's befuddling behaviour was giving Harry a headache, now was not the time to think about it. Neville disarmed and stunned Crabbe but that's when Daphne Greengrass raised a shaky albeit determined wand hand. But before Harry could even attempt to stun her, she was hit by a hex in the back. A surprised look flitted briefly across her face before she slumped to the ground, revealing a still crouched Theo who had his wand aimed at her. Tom was making a few distressed noises, Harry now realised. He glanced furtively at Draco who raised his chin a bit in a typically haughty fashion. And yet, he lowered his wand. As did Goyle.

Harry did the same, waiting a few seconds to make sure that the short duel was well and truly over. He then threw a meaningful look in Neville's direction and walked over to Theo and Tom. "What's wrong?" he asked, kneeling next to the injured Slytherin.

"I don't know," Theo sighed. "Well, I _do_ know. His foot was cut off."

Harry already put his hand on Tom's forehead. "He doesn't seem to be running a fever. That's good. Tom, can you hear me?"

Harry got a groan in response.

"Have you given him anything for the pain?" he asked Theo.

Theo snorted. "Between running from the bloody barrier and hiding from whatever the hell is stalking us in this forest, I haven't been able to yet," he said. "Besides, I can't find the typical plants that I would be able to use. I don't know this forest and it's almost winter!"

Harry nodded and sat back on his haunches. "Neville," he said.

"I'm on it, Harry," Neville replied dutifully. "Do you think you'll be alright here?"

Harry looked at Malfoy and Goyle, both of whom were regarding each other carefully. "I think so," he said. "Go on. And be careful."

Neville nodded curtly and with certainty in his stride, he disappeared into the treeline. Harry checked that the four stunned Slytherins were definitely out before taking a seat next to Tom and taking his hand. He could only imagine the sort of pain the boy was in right now.

"Why did you come here?" Malfoy asked after a prolonged moment of silence.

Tiredly, Harry looked at Malfoy and watched how the boy pocketed his wand. "What?"

"What are you doing here?" Malfoy repeated. "Not even _you_ could honestly think you would be able to fight off seven Slytherins."

"It turns out I didn't need to," Harry pointed out.

"Yes, but you didn't know that," Malfoy countered. "For all you knew, all of us would be ready to kill you."

Harry shook his head. "I knew that wasn't going to happen," he said.

Malfoy narrowed his eyes at him. "You couldn't have been sure of that. You are _such_ a Gryffindor!"

"What's up with you anyway?" Harry then asked. "I don't know what to make of you."

"I'd like to know that too," Goyle said carefully.

_Oh, well done. Now neither side trusts you._

Malfoy sighed and sank down on a large rock. "Can't you put two and two together, yourself?" he asked.

"I want to say that you've bitten off more than you can chew," Harry said carefully. "But that's not it, is it?"

Malfoy slowly shook his head.

"What are you talking about?" Goyle grunted.

"Ugh, why can't you Slytherins ever be clear about things?' Harry asked in exasperation.

Sooner than expected, Neville returned carrying a few plants that Harry couldn't identify. He headed over to Harry and deposited his bounty near him. "It's no substitute for a pain relief potion but if you make tea from these, it should help with the pain," he said.

"And why would we trust you?" Goyle asked.

"Read the room, Goyle!" Malfoy exclaimed. "Theo and Tom obviously trust them and, besides, Gryffindors don't usually poison people."

Theo got a fire going while Harry stood awkwardly next to Neville. He would have to transport the unconscious Slytherins closer to the centre of the woods, lest they are taken by the barrier. Tom would have to be moved as well. But he wondered if the three remaining Slytherins could be convinced to stand beside him when the time came.

"I can easily see what you're thinking right now," Malfoy said.

"Oh yeah?" Harry replied dully. "And what's that?"

Malfoy looked around as if to make sure that he wasn't being listened to. Harry thought that was rather silly of him seeing how there was no way for him to detect Voldemort's presence. The action could, of course, simply be a means to distract Harry. To convince him of whatever was about to come out of Malfoy's mouth next.

"Whatever you're planning, you're going to need allies," he then said.

"Draco –" Goyle grunted.

"I'm in," Theo said loudly. Everyone turned to look at him. He was now pouring some of the tea down Tom's throat, nodding slightly when he saw the stressful lines in the boy's face relax somewhat. He set the transfigured cup down and got up to face Harry. "I'm in," he repeated. "I don't care what your plan is but this can't continue."

"It's that simple, is it?" Goyle bellowed. "Betraying the Dark Lord like that? I never thought you were quite that dumb."

"I believe Harry," Theo said. "You-Know-Who is using his Death Eaters as pawns. As sacrifices. Hell, look around you! _We're_ sacrifices as well."

Goyle shook his head. "Tom just wasn't careful enough."

"None of us knew what was about to happen!" Theo shouted. "And don't pretend that you saw this coming because I swear I will punch you in the nose for it."

To Harry's surprise, this threat calmed Goyle down rather than aggravate him.

"You-Know-Who is unpredictable," Theo then said. "Untrustworthy. He has taken things way too far. But Harry has really made an effort to get to know me this year. He made an effort earlier to help us when Tom got hurt. And even now, he wants to put a stop to this horrible nonsense."

"Only to save his own skin!" Goyle argued. "You can't trust a Gryffindor."

Theo shook his head. "And yet, I do," he replied easily. "_This_ Gryffindor, at least, I stand by. And if you can't agree with that… well, I guess you'll be on your own."

Goyle wasn't readily agreeing but, at least, he seemed to be thinking that over.

"What about you, Malfoy?" Neville asked. "It seems to me that you're given one last chance."

Malfoy quirked an eyebrow at the normally shy Gryffindor. "This is quite the conundrum," he simply replied. "And yet I expected my answer to be clear because of my actions."

"Your actions are the problem here," Harry spat. "Because of you, I was portkeyed in here. And I was probably not the only one."

"Damn it, Harry, Umbridge was going to take you anyway!" Malfoy said angrily. Slightly taken aback by Malfoy's usage of his given name, Harry swallowed his immediate reply. "If I hadn't intervened, she'd have messed you up _before_ that happened, though."

"So now you're saying that you hexing me was in _my_ benefit?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Yes!"

Harry didn't know what to think anymore. What Malfoy said made some sense, he supposed, but why hadn't he told anyone what was about to happen when he already knew the plan? Because he clearly had known. And yet, he hadn't told Umbridge about the DA. He had warned Harry and given him several clues near the end. Maybe the boy had simply been playing both sides and was now figuring out which side was about to win.

"What about your father?" Harry asked.

Malfoy scoffed. "If I believe what you're telling me – and I admit that I have no real reason to doubt you – he's in danger anyway. And if the Dark Lord ends up winning… well, I really don't like having him in our house all the time. It's harder to… keep secrets that way."

"I'm still not sure if I can trust you," Harry said.

"You don't have to," Malfoy said. "Trust that, for now, I'm on the side of the winning party. And that would be you. There'll be enough time to revaluate my loyalty when this is all over."

Stoically, the two boys stared each other down for one long moment. But then, Harry extended his hand, tilting his chin a little as if daring Malfoy to shake it. And that was exactly what the blonde did.

Goyle groaned a little in discontent and Neville seemed very uncertain about this new arrangement but Harry didn't care. He still remembered that Slytherin conversation he had overheard earlier. He knew that they, too, were in a tough spot. And extending a hand towards those willing to take it was better than to fuel the fire of enmity.

Suddenly, Harry's vision flashed back and forth a couple of times before his mind seemed to settle into Severus's again.

_Severus. What's happening?_

**Look**.

Harry focused his attention on the scene in front of him. The always stoic Lucius Malfoy was now dragging himself across the platform like just any wasted drunk. His arms swayed bonelessly as he took heavy steps but without any real sense of direction. When he turned around to face Severus, Harry saw the man's eyes. They had rolled so far back that only the very bottom part of his irises were visible. Blood and snot streamed out of his nose, drenching his robes. The man was shaking uncontrollably and foam was starting to cover his lips. His mouth stood agape as if stuck in a silent scream.

Harry wanted to recoil when Lucius approached Severus but found that he could only watch. Severus merely watched Lucius' approach with calm certainty, still stirring that ever-brewing potion of his.

Lucius's lips moved, clearly mouthing 'help me' and Harry watched in horrified fascination as the man's legs gave out and he crumpled helplessly to the ground.

Voldemort screamed furiously and took a few long strides towards Lucius, grabbing a fistful of the man's tangled hair to pull his head back.

"Lucius, get up right now!" he screamed. "I am your _Lord_. You will _not_ disobey me like this!"

But Harry already knew that Lucius would not be able to obey. His eyes now completely rolled back, leaving only the whites of his eyes and a strange gurgling sound erupted from his throat. It was almost, Harry realised in horror, as if he was choking on a liquid. Possibly, his own blood.

And then the sound stopped and Lucius collapsed to the ground, a few puffs of sand upending in the wind.

"No!" Voldemort screamed. Angrily, he kicked Lucius' now dead body. He turned to say something to Severus when another Death Eater relinquished his position and started rushing to the edge of the forest.

"Avada Kedavra!" Voldemort screeched. A flash of green and the man dropped dead immediately. Harry was acutely aware of Severus' fear and disbelief mixing with a sense of triumph. While this was a good development for the light side, it might prove more and more dangerous for Severus to stay where he was. Especially as Voldemort became increasingly irate.

"Is there anyone else that would prefer to end their part of this agreement?" Voldemort snapped, gripping his wand tightly. There came a disconnected chorus of "No, my Lord," from the remains of the circle. Though Harry could see the doubt and demotivation in some of the Death Eater's eyes. Voldemort stomped back to his position and continued, quiet fear evident on his face.

_That was… telling._

**Quite. I believe that your admirable encounter with the Slytherins might have been the cause of this.**

_You're not telling me that I have to tell Malfoy that he probably killed his own father, are you?_

**For now, it would be best not to. Especially because we cannot be certain how any of this works. But from what I've gathered, your victorious encounters – as well as those of the other students – have a negative effect on the Dark Lord and his ritual. It's only become more clear with this last one.**

_That's great and all but we still need to get out of here, somehow. And maybe take out Voldemort in the process if at all possible._

**I'm working on it. Recent… developments have given me an idea. I'll work it out as soon as I can. In the meantime, try to not do anything reckless anymore.**

_I'm afraid that I can't promise that._

Harry cast one last glance at Lucius, pink foam slowly seeping out of the man's mouth and making Harry's stomach turn. For the greater good or not, he didn't like this at all. But he had to worry about those he _could_ save for now. And then he drew back again.

* * *

_So, the chapter is like... half a page shorter than normal but I barely finished it in the nick of time. It's been far too hot to do anything!_  
_Please don't forget to leave a review._


	54. Chapter 54

_Hi Everyone. I know I'm a tad later than usual but it's still Friday, right? So don't shoot me. Thanks, as always, for reviewing and thanks to my beta for accepting my very late submission._

* * *

**Chapter 54**

Harry checked the bonds he had put on the Slytherins one final time. When he was finally satisfied that they were secure, he turned around to face his allies.

"When do you expect the stunning hex to end?" he asked.

"Another hour or two, give or take," Malfoy replied with great disinterest as he wiped the sand from his sleeve with swift, precise movements.

They had hovered the offending Slytherins near the edge of the lake, where Harry expected the barrier wouldn't touch in the nearby future. They had also brought Tom here. The boy was still panting a little bit but Neville's plants seemed to have helped him.

"This doesn't seem very safe," Goyle said. "What if some kind of animal attacks them?"

Harry sighed. "I know that this isn't exactly ideal, but the alternative is to either kill them or wait for them to kill me. I don't like either of those options."

"I can stay with them," Goyle offered. "Make sure they don't get hurt."

Neville scoffed. "And have you untie them as soon as our backs are turned? No thanks."

"He makes a valid point," Harry pointed out. "You haven't exactly shown great loyalty to either side yet. Frankly, I don't know what to make of you."

"It's not that difficult, really," Malfoy interjected. "He's a foolish oaf that has a hard time thinking for himself. But don't worry. I'll solve that conundrum for you, Gregory." He took a few steps closer until he was almost nose to nose with Goyle and poked a long finger into his chest. "We can't trust you to come with us. Not only because of your hesitation but also because of the way you keep announcing your passing through the forest to everyone and everything. So you will stay here. Just keep this in mind, Greg. If what Potter says is true, this little farce might not last for too much longer. In fact, it might all end in a matter of hours. Who's to say? If you release them –" he waved his hand towards the tied up Slytherins, "during that time, you will have forfeited any chance of redeeming yourself and getting out of this with but a slap on the wrist."

Harry didn't think that that was all the boy would get, no matter what he chose to do from here on out, but he expected that Malfoy was already too aware of this.

Malfoy crossed his arms. "Take care of Tom. Help everyone eat and drink. And don't do anything else. You are not to release a single one of them. Not even Vincent. Am I clear?"

Goyle's eyes darted across the scene but he found no friends in those who were conscious.

"Am I clear?" Malfoy repeated.

Goyle sighed. "Crystal."

Malfoy smiled. "Excellent," he said jovially. "Very well then, Gryffindors. Shall we?" He gestured towards the edge of the wood in a wide arch. Harry looked back at Goyle and Tom one last time. He wasn't entirely sure about leaving them like that but he also didn't want to leave the unconscious Slytherins without any sort of protection. Was Goyle to be trusted? No. But if Malfoy had him under control as much as he thought he did, they'd be fine. Right?

Neville seemed to be as convinced as Harry was but when Harry nodded, he went along with it. Theo didn't even seem to question the situation. He accepted Goyle's servitude relation as fact and casually walked alongside Harry as they entered the treeline and quickly manoeuvred out of sight of the lake clearing.

It was odd. The Hufflepuffs had chosen to stay on the side-lines for now as they bided their time. But they few Slytherins that _had_ chosen Harry's side were just coming along easy as you please. Harry wondered if it had something to do with the continuous strain and stress they must have felt throughout the year, knowing that they would have to please an insatiable sadist sooner or later. Maybe this outcome, for Theo and Malfoy at least, was better than they could have hoped for.

Well, Lucius was still dead, of course, but as Malfoy had said; the chance of that happening had been pretty big anyways.

"So, what's the plan, Potter?" Malfoy asked. "And where is Weasley? I would assume you'd be counting on his strategic ability in all of this."

"Yes, well, it would appear that I can't count on him at all," Harry spat.

Malfoy frowned at him as if he couldn't quite believe that. "And the others?"

Harry sighed. "Malfoy, you heard Voldemort's threats at the start of this, didn't you?"

"Of course," Malfoy replied.

"Suffice to say that the Gryffindors did help me at first and that Voldemort came through on those threats."

"Oh," Malfoy said. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"Are you?" Neville asked in a flat tone of voice.

Malfoy glared at him. "Still not trusting me, are you?" he asked. "Don't forget that I haven't killed a single person. Not one. Not here nor anywhere else. I know the way you feel about Slytherins but –"

"Easy, Draco," Theo interjected. "I'm sure it has nothing to do with you being a Slytherin and everything to do with you being… well, you."

Harry snorted which earned him a death glare from Malfoy.

"Theo's right," Neville said easily. "I like _him_ just fine and he's a Slytherin."

"It's fine, Neville," Harry said importantly. "We can trust him."

And Harry believed it. The moment Malfoy had taken Harry's hand, his father had died. Whatever this ritual was, Harry did not believe that it could be fooled by insincerity. So the fact that Voldemort's power had inadvertently diminished even more because of Malfoy's actions proved to Harry that the boy was being honest. And that he could be trusted. The look in his eye seemed to convince Neville because, one moment later, the boy nodded and averted his gaze.

"Fine," he said. "I'll trust him. But I don't need to like him."

"Merlin, but Longbottom sure developed a spine, didn't he?" Malfoy whispered close to Harry's ear. "What made _that_ happen?"

"I'm not sure," Harry replied. "But he's been a much better friend than I've given him credit for."

"Better than Weaselby, you mean," Malfoy said.

"Obviously," Harry said darkly.

"Look," Draco said. "I'm the last one to defend a Weasley. You know that. But I can kind of see where he's coming from. No, don't look at me like that. Hear me out. From what I hear, he tried to help you and his family got punished for it."

"So did Neville's," Harry hissed. "He didn't try to kill me for it."

That took Draco aback for a moment. "Kill you?"

"Yeah," Harry said.

A moment of uncomfortable silence passed when Malfoy cleared his throat. "I'm just trying to say… isn't his family kind of all he's got?"

Harry stared at him. "What?"

"We all know that he doesn't have much," Malfoy said easily. "He's as poor as they come. And he doesn't exactly have any skill worth noting. He has two friends and – quite honestly – can't live up to either one of their prowess. You're the boy wonder and Granger is… Granger. All he has, all he really has is his family. And that's exactly what the Dark Lord is taking away from him."

"Well, I don't even have that much," Harry snarled.

Malfoy frowned. "So you wouldn't care if your relatives got tortured like that?"

Harry turned away so that Malfoy wouldn't see the conflicted look on his face. Would he care? Unlikely. Well, he _would_ care if they took Dudley. He'd been coming around at the end. But if Voldemort had been threatening Sirius… would Harry have raised his wand against Ron? What if he would threaten Severus right now? Harry knew what it was like to not be left with much. And he had always envied Ron's large family. He simply never thought that Ron valued it quite as much. Honestly, Harry didn't know what he would do if he was in Ron's position. Not really. Would he choose Neville's path? He liked to believe that he would. But he was starting to doubt that he could.

Incredulously, he looked back at Malfoy who was sneering at the mud caking his boots. "You are full of surprises today, you know?"

Malfoy grinned. "Only today?" he asked. "How disappointing."

Then there was a sudden but familiar intrusion into Harry's mind. **Harry, you have to hurry south.**

_Severus? Why? What's going on?_

**It's the Ravenclaws. They're under attack.**

Harry glanced at Malfoy in slight confusion. _Under attack? By whom?_

**By Inferi. You have to make haste. If any students get killed by them, it will only make the Dark Lord stronger. **

Harry stopped walking, causing the other three students to stop as well. "What are Inferi?"

"What?" Theo gasped. "How the hell did you come up with that?"

Harry was already turning around. "Er… it's a long story. But I think that the Ravenclaws are fighting some."

"And you know this _how_?" Malfoy asked, though he was taking quick steps right beside Harry as they hurried south. "Let me guess. The same way you know what's going on with the Dark Lord?"

"Yes," Harry said. His careful steps were already evolving into a light trot.

"Which is?" Malfoy urged.

"You've been keeping secrets for me for most of the year," Harry replied. "So you'll forgive me if I'll be keeping this one. Now, will someone finally tell me what inferi are?"

"They're undead," Theo said. "Reanimated corpses. Something like a puppet. They don't appear naturally so I think that the Dark Lord put those here himself."

**Ten points to Slytherin.**

"You're probably right," Harry admitted. "Do you have any ideas on how to fight them?"

"With fire," Malfoy then said. "Fire and light though a Lumos won't exactly kill them."

"Fire?" Harry repeated. "Will an Incendio do?"

"If there's a handful of them. Any more than that and it will probably not keep you alive for long."

Harry cursed under his breath. "Fantastic. Does anyone else know any useful fire spells?"

"Well, there's always Fiendfyre," Malfoy proposed.

"Are you out of your mind?" Neville barked. "That'll be an excellent option if you want to wipe out the Ravenclaws at the same time as you do the inferi."

"Well, does anyone else have any better ideas?" Malfoy snarled.

The silence surrounding them next spoke clearly. They were all only fifth years and hadn't learned a lot of elemental spellwork yet. If Hermione had been here, she surely would have known a useful spell or two but Harry couldn't even imagine where to begin.

**Don't worry. I will help you.**

Harry sighed. _How_?

**What you need to cast is a firestorm. And while it takes a lot of magical power, it's quite easy to cast and much more reliable than Fiendfyre.**

_So you're saying that I should try using a spell I've never tried before? Just like that?_

**You're a gifted dueller. You pick up defensive and combative spells better than most any student I've ever taught. Don't sell yourself short. I know that you can do this.**

Momentarily bolstered by the obvious confidence streaming through their mind link, Harry gave up all manner of protest. _Alright. What do I need to do?_

**The incantation is Ignulum. You merely need to raise your wand above your head and move it into large, overhead circles. You'll be able to direct the fire at will but only for as long as you keep your focus. It takes a lot of magic, though, so try not to overuse it. When you see an opening, you have to run.**

"… where they would even come from. I mean, I know that it's dark in here but they shouldn't come out during the daytime."

Harry hadn't even noticed that Theo was talking again and only picked up the last of this sentence.

"Wait, what?" he asked.

Theo sighed. "Are you even paying attention? All I'm saying is that they're either at a deep part of the woods or in a cave."

**They're in a cave. They're trapped against the wall at the very back. You're nearly there.**

"A cave sounds about right," Harry said, trying not to arouse too much suspicion. "And they're very close by so keep your eyes peeled."

It wasn't their eyes that would finally lead them in the right direction, though. It was an ear-piercing scream that drew all of their attention to a cave entrance that lay half-hidden behind the branches of some massive oaks. Harry was the first to move. He grabbed his wand tighter and cast a Lumos before even entering the cave. The swift footfalls behind him alerted him to his allies' presence. The screaming didn't let up and Harry kept moving. He noticed some movement in the shadows around him but the light of his wand seemed to be keeping any inferi at bay, for now.

When they finally reached the back wall, Harry could see four of the five Ravenclaws standing huddled together in a small pile, holding out their lit up wands to every side they could reach. The screaming was lessening now but not because of decreasing proximity. The source was still very close, Harry realised, and he turned his wand to catch sight of Marcus Belby as he was being devoured by the pale corpses under Voldemort's control. They tore through flesh and bone and Harry knew, even before the sounds stopped, that Belby was beyond help. With a heavy heart, he turned back to the leftover Ravenclaws, taking the last necessary steps to reach them.

"Harry," Michael said in desperation. "You're really here. You actually came. You –"

"Shh," Harry hushed him. "We need to get you out of here."

"It's no good," Kim said. "These things are everywhere. And the only thing that seems to keep them away is light."

"Marcus thought he could fight them," Lisa said softly. "He said he had read about them. And I think he managed to kill one of them but…"

"There were too many," Padma Patil said. "He never should have left the group. We're in this together."

"He was brave to try and get you out of here," Harry said, trying to ignore the crunching of bone that was coming from Belby's corpse. "So come on. Let's finish what he started."

"Harry," Theo hissed. "They're coming closer."

"Did I mention that they're attracted to magical strength?" Malfoy suddenly said. "I feel like I should have mentioned that."

**Come on, Harry. You can do this. Ignulum!**

"Harry," Neville said fearfully and for one moment, Harry was reminded of the boy Neville used to be. A sign that the situation was dire.

The scratching of nails on the rocky floor was deafening while the hungry growls and grunts sent shivers down Harry's spine. He was vaguely aware of the Ravenclaws trying to stand behind him as a group and failing miserably to do so. They all still had their wands lit but their concentration seemed to be about to falter.

_I'll just have to give it my best try._

**Do or die, there is no try.**

"Ignulum!" Harry raised his wand above his head and drew large circles in the air. He hadn't expected it to happen and yet large flames suddenly came roaring out of his wand to form a shield of red and gold around the small group that only packed together even tighter now.

"Bloody hell, Potter," Malfoy breathed. "Did you come up with that just now?"

"Just focus," Harry said. "I can't keep this up for long." Snape hadn't been kidding. This spell was incredibly straining on Harry's magic. But it did the trick. The flames lit up the cave almost all the way back to the entrance. The pale bodies of the Inferi became visible and most of them backed off as far as they could when the light of the flames touched them. A couple of them came close despite the spell, but they were quickly picked off by Harry's fire and left to burn to death on the ground.

Moving as a group was not easy, though, and the journey – though short – was slow-going and tiresome. The other students would cast the occasional Incendio as if to help Harry but it didn't really do much at this point.

"Almost there," Theo said, his voice barely audible above the roaring flames. "Come on, Harry. Keep it up."

**You're doing fantastic. Steady now.**

But then, the strain became too much and Harry's tired legs buckled only a few steps away from the entrance. The flames died down as quickly as they had come and – despite the dim light shining nearby – the sound of the Inferi scrambling to come closer moved quickly towards them.

"Go!" Harry exclaimed. "Leave!"

"Oh, _hell_ no!" Neville said angrily. He grabbed Harry's arm and hoisted him to his feet while keeping his wand trained on the approaching monsters.

"Incendio!" Malfoy and Theo yelled at the same time, casting beams of fire from either of Harry's sides. The Ravenclaws had all lit their wands up again but none of them were actually leaving the cave.

"Come on," Neville growled. He half dragged Harry with him. Harry tried to use his own two feet but that one spell had really drained him of his strength. Maybe using an untested spell like that hadn't been the best idea.

"Lumos Maxima!"

"Incendio!"

"Ventus!"

The three voices came as one and yet Harry was able to recognise each of them. He watched in a daze how Adam cast a Lumos large enough to temporarily blind and stop all of the Inferi darting their way to the group. Collin hit them with an Incendio at the same time, causing a couple of them to catch on fire. Ron finished it up with a broad Ventus that blew the monsters back, buying everyone a few more precious seconds. Immediately, the redhead was on Harry's other side, working together with Neville to drag him out of there. Almost as if nothing bad had ever happened between them.

This time, they did reach the other side and stumbled onto the forest grounds, catching their breaths as they did. For good measure, Ron set one of the oak trees on fire, keeping the flames contained with a spell to make sure that the Inferi wouldn't be able to leave the cave and go after them if they were desperate enough.

"Blimey, Harry," Ron said as he was trying to catch his breath. "You really need to er… be more careful." He glanced at Harry awkwardly before looking at the other rogue Gryffindors. They all seemed to be sharing the same sheepish look.

"Took you long enough, Weasley," Malfoy sneered. "We might have been eaten alive if you had waited any longer."

"It's not as if we were waiting for the opportune moment or something," Ron said, scandalised. "When we heard the shouting, we came here as fast as we could."

"And _now_ what?" Harry spat. "Did you forget what can happen when you're helping me? Or is this your way of getting another chance at killing me yourself?"

"I deserve that," Ron admitted. "But I…" he sighed and sat down, cross-legged, next to Harry. "I know that this doesn't quite cut it, but I'm sorry, alright? It's just… my mum and my brother, they…" he cleared his throat. "Well, whatever else, they will probably kill me when they find out just what I did. I was so upset at the time. Still am, of course. But I had some time to think about what Neville said. And he's right!"

"Took you long enough to realise that," Neville jibed.

"I know, alright?!" Ron exclaimed. "I know that I was a total prick. I know that I didn't act the way a Gryffindor should and I sure as hell didn't act like your friend."

Ron frowned and took in Harry's pale complexion. "I know that you didn't put us in this situation. You just ended up being _his_ plaything again. Just like most years. And it's not that I didn't know that from the start. I just… forgot."

"Ron," Harry sighed. "Listen –"

"Look, I will understand if you don't want to be my friend anymore," Ron interjected hastily. "I wouldn't want to be friends with me either. Not after this. I can't believe I was ever stupid enough to –"

Whatever else Ron had been willing to say was cut off when Harry pulled him into a fierce hug. He didn't even care what the others would think of it. His strained muscles throbbed in dull agony but he didn't mind.

It was ridiculous how angry he had been at Ron. Ridiculous because – after one apology – Harry was immediately ready to allow Ron into his heart again. And, really, he didn't think he had ever been gone from it. Not really.

"It's alright," Harry said. "I forgive you." And he realised that that really was the truth.

A wry chuckle echoed into the back of his mind**. You always **_**were**_** quick to forgive. **

Someone cleared his throat and Harry looked up to see that it had been Malfoy. The Slytherin inclined his head towards the Ravenclaws and Harry realised that they were all crying. Likely because of the loss of Marcus Belby. While the boy had been a prick, Harry couldn't deny that his last moment had been a good one. But what had it cost?

_Severus, about Marcus…_

**His death is most regrettable. He always did show a considerable amount of promise.**

Harry sighed. _I know that this might not exactly be… appropriate but how did his death affect Voldemort?_

**One of the Death Eaters received a considerable boost when Mr Belby's life expired. And so did the Dark Lord. **

_Damn it._

**That is, however, not the last of it. While that boost in power was most regrettable, many a thing happened to decrease it as well.**

_Wait, what? So where do we stand here?_

**Three more Death Eaters lost their lives. Quite gruesomely, I might add. The Dark Lord is not left with a whole lot of options.**

_Will he punish everyone?_

**At this point, that's unlikely. As the ritual progressed, the Dark Lord has seen a need to preserve his magic. That last killing curse he cast has proven to be very detrimental to his own health. I don't see him unnecessarily attacking anyone at this point. Nor does he truly have the strength to find out what exactly is happening anymore. **

_Wow, that's… really good._

**Your actions have effectively crippled and blinded him. I believe that it is nearly time for us to go on the offensive. Preferably before any other student has to die.**

Harry ignored that Severus didn't seem to have the same concern for his past colleagues. _What did you have in mind?_

**The first part of our plan you've already nearly completed in an exemplary fashion.**

_Which is?_

**Gather your allies. They are your strength and the Dark Lord's weakness. You need their allegiance to sever the final bonds between him and his servants.**

_Kill them, you mean._

**Yes. With them in the way, you will not be able to fight the Dark Lord. They need to go.**

This, honestly, didn't come as a surprise to Harry. It might be cruel but if the choice was between his friends and the Death Eaters, the choice was easily made.

_That would leave you alone with Voldemort, though. Won't he take out his anger on you?_

**No. Because you will immediately be engaging him in a battle of the minds. **

_A Legilimency battle._

**In a way. I've touched on the subject before but I believe that this link will truly be your key to victory. As will the link between you and me.**

_Do you really think I'll stand a chance?_

**The Dark Lord's mind is already injured. It weakens him but it will also cause him to fight back in desperation, making him more dangerous. He'll be easier to defeat but also harder to defend against. Luckily, you won't be alone.**

_I don't know if I'm okay with you endangering yourself like that, though…_

**Hmmm, imagine how **_**I'm**_** feeling at the moment. Suffice to say that neither of us has a choice in the matter. Not if we wish to win this war and get the injured hostages to St Mungo's as fast as we possibly can.**

_This is so much to deal with._

**Take it one step at a time, Harry. First, gather everyone. Even the Slytherins that you incapacitated. They will have to make a choice. As will you. Things will become clearer after you have done so.**

Harry hadn't even noticed that he had closed his eyes but he opened them again to find everyone staring at him. He met their gazes with newfound determination.

"Harry?" Neville prompted. "What did you …ah, see?"

"Voldemort has weakened considerably," Harry said. Het got up from where he had been seated and noticed that Ron stood with him. "If there ever was a time to strike back, it is now."

"Strike back?" Michael said incredulously. "Against You-Know-Who?"

"It's the only way we'll get out of this forest without anyone else dying," Harry said. "Or do you expect Voldemort to just let everyone go after he's sick of his own whimsy?"

"No," Michael sighed.

"I have to do this," Harry said. "And if I succeed, right here and now, that will be the end of this war."

"You're actually talking about _killing_ You-Know-Who?" Ron asked in amazement. "You know, for good?"

"Everyone has to die eventually," Harry said easily. "And Voldemort's death is long overdue."

"Yes, but has anyone ever tried telling _him_ that?" Ron said.

"Ron," Harry said importantly. "You came back to show me that I can trust you. But I need you to trust me as well. I _know_ that I can do this. But I can't do it alone."

"You won't be," Neville said, putting a hand on Harry's shoulder. The understanding look in his eyes showed Harry that the boy meant that in more ways than one.

"No, of course not," Ron admitted. "I still think this is a bad idea but I'm with you."

"So what's the plan?" Theo asked.

"First, we need to meet with the Huffelpuffs," Harry said. "And then, we need to go back to the other Slytherins."

"As to what end?" Malfoy asked.

Harry met his gaze. "I'll explain later. For now, just come along."

* * *

After seeing Harry and the number of allies he had suddenly gathered, the Hufflepuffs had been surprisingly easy to convince to join him. Harry could practically feel their hopes and expectations simmer through as they joined the growing group. They had all noticed Marcus' absence but none of them had questioned it. By now, everyone knew what kind of thing could happen in this forest.

When they reached the clearing in which they had left the Slytherins, they saw Goyle sitting on a rock, trying to ignore the incessant whining of his tied-up housemates. Tom seemed to be doing a bit better and his still-bright eyes were the first to notice Harry coming out of the tree-line.

"Harry," he croaked. "What are you doing back?" His eyes only widened when the rest of the group appeared as well.

"It's time for us to stop this, Tom," Harry said kindly. "And then we can finally get you to a hospital."

"A hospital sounds nice," Tom agreed shakily. "Really, really nice."

"Did anything of note happen?" Malfoy asked Goyle.

But before Goyle could reply, he was interrupted by Parkinson's banshee-like scream. "Draco! How dare you do this to us? What's the matter with you? If you don't release me this instant, I'll –"

"You'll what?" Draco asked coldly, staring down at her.

"Draco," Parkinson said softly. "You know I don't mean you any harm. Just let me go."

Harry snorted. "You're quite oblivious to your surroundings, aren't you?" he interjected.

"Don't talk to me, Golden Boy," she spat.

"As you wish." Harry turned away from her to address the group as a whole. He took in their worn, tired faces and knew that they all wanted this to end as much as he did.

"I know you're all sick of this. And I know that you've been through a lot." He locked gazes with Ron. "We all have. But there's a real chance for us to end this once and for all. Over the last couple of days, I've seen the strengths of every house. And while we didn't always get along, I know that you can all understand the importance of standing up against this darkness. Because if we don't do this now, we might never get a chance like this again."

One of the tied up Slytherins behind Harry scoffed but Harry ignored them. The Gryffindors, at least, all seemed to be willing to stand with Harry this time. But the same couldn't be said for the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. The Ravenclaws especially – with Marcus' death still fresh on their minds – seemed more than reluctant to stand up against someone whose power seemed so terribly unrivalled. The Hufflepuffs kept glancing at one another but Hannah kept her eyes averted from anyone. She was blushing fiercely and kept looking at her shoes.

_This is not going well._

"Seriously?" That was Neville. "Harry Potter is giving you an out. Is offering you a chance to be a part of something great and here you all are, on the verge of choosing the coward's way out."

"He's got our families, though," Padma pointed out quietly. "He threatened to kill them."

"He's not able to anymore," Harry told them. "Voldemort is so weakened right now that he can't cast any unnecessary spells anymore. His focus is somewhere else entirely."

"No offence, Harry, but how could you possibly know that?" Lisa Turpin asked quietly.

"I have my ways," Harry said. "None of which I can explain to you right now."

Neville took a step forward. "It all comes down to this. Do you fear Voldemort more than you trust Harry or not? This is the most important battle of your lives. How do you want to be remembered? What would your families want you to do?" he subconsciously tugged at his Gryffindor tie. "I know that my parents want me to fight," he said. "No matter what _he_ does to them. And I, for one, will make my parents proud of me. What will you all choose?"

Harry crossed his arms and looked at his peers thoughtfully. They all seemed to be making up their minds right then and there. A decision to fuel their victory or their defeat. Harry just hoped that he had done enough to be considered someone they could lean on. Because whatever they decided, he would fight. Not only for them but also for himself.

_Time to end this._

**Once and for all.**

* * *

_As might be clear at this point, the story is drawing to a close. Please don't forget to leave a review!_


	55. Chapter 55

_Sorry for not updating on Friday. The chapter turned out to be longer than I had expected, as you might notice. Also, I started it a bit late. I'm sorry for the wait but I hope it was worth it._

_Oh, and a big thanks to my beta who has been a huge influence in this chapter._

* * *

**Chapter 55**

Harry looked at the students that had been swept to this forest with him. Most of their robes were so torn and muddied that their crests weren't even visible anymore and one would only be able to know which houses they were from by knowing who they were. They also didn't exactly huddle with their own houses anymore. Instead, they stood in a general half-circle, facing Harry, all mixed and mingled.

How ironic was it that house unity seemed to be achieved in this cursed forest? But Harry supposed that that was what a common enemy would do.

And now, he was supposed to embrace the role of the leader.

Harry stepped forward and silently embraced Neville, wholeheartedly accepting the boy that had been with him from start to finish. The moment was brief but heartfelt and after they broke away, Harry smiled at Neville and inclined his head to his right. Neville smiled and stood where he had been directed to stand. Then, he stepped towards Ron and without needing any direction from each other, the clasped their right hands into a tight hold as their lower arms crossed. They grinned at one another and Harry felt that they truly understood each other. Despite his many flaws, Ron would be here for him. _With_ him. Until the end. Harry nodded and Ron joined Neville.

Harry traded some kind of familiar greeting with most of the students. The entirety of Hufflepuff was easily trusted and Harry could feel that they would be loyal until the end. Hannah Abott was feeling a bit awkward about their little mishap, Harry sensed, but after a friendly pat on her shoulder, she smiled at him and was dismissed with the others of her group.

It was a horrible thing to think about but Harry imagined that, had Marcus Belby not died, he would have likely not chosen to be on Harry's side. He had been very clear about that from the start. But the other Ravenclaws clearly didn't share that opinion and after the daring rescue Harry had been able to pull off with the help of his friends, they seemed to have faith in him wholeheartedly.

Harry bumped fists with Adam, shook hands with Collin and exchanged a kiss on the cheek with Lavender.

It had not been his intention to hold off on the Slytherins until the end but he knew that there would be some that wouldn't join him.

"Harry," Theo said when he caught Harry staring. "I've got your back. You know that."

Harry smiled at him. He held out his wand and crossed it with Theo's. "I know," he said. "And you have my trust." A brief embrace later, Theo joined the approved students as well. He then kneeled next to Tom and gently took his hand.

"Harry," he said, his voice hoarse. "I wish I could help you. I really do. But I-"

"I know," Harry interrupted kindly. "Don't worry about that. Just having you on my side is all the help I need."

Tom clung to Harry's hand with a despairing tightness. But his eyes were focused and sure. "You can do this," he whispered. "I know it."

"And I will not disappoint you," Harry said gently.

When he got back up to face the remainder of the Slytherin group, Malfoy was the one to approach him, himself. His air was haughty as always and his fingers were rapping on the inside of his folded arms. But Harry could make out the hesitation in his posture.

"Malfoy," he said curtly.

"Draco," Malfoy said.

Harry frowned. "Excuse me?"

"Call me Draco," Malfoy urged again. "I know that I probably didn't earn your trust just yet. Not the way Theo and Tom have. But I am genuine when I say that I am on your side."

He extended his hand now and waited for Harry to shake it. Harry looked at it for a long time before meeting those icy blue eyes. Then he took Draco's hand.

"Draco," he agreed. "It's nice having you again."

Draco smirked. "Good to be back," he said. They shook once before Draco walked over to Theo and Ron in calm, steady strides.

"That leaves you lot," Harry said, raising his chin a little as he took in Goyle and the bound Slytherins. "You understand what's going on here. And you know what's at stake. Especially for you. What is your choice?"

"Choice?" Parkinson spat. "You're not giving us one. It's your way or death, isn't it?"

Harry shook his head. "No," he said. "I am not like Voldemort. I will not kill anyone but him. You can choose to oppose me. If you do so, I will have no choice but to take you out of the equation… temporarily."

Parkinson huffed. "Well, count me out. I would rather die than help a filthy half-blood like you."

"Like Voldemort, you mean," Harry said coldly. Her quiet belied her confidence but Harry was done with her. She would never be on his side.

"What about you, Goyle?" he then asked. "Do you share Parkinson's sentiment?"

"I-" Goyle looked back and forth between Malfoy and Crabbe, clearly not sure of what to do.

"This is one of the most important decisions of your life," Harry said sternly. "So why don't you try and make it for yourself?"

There was some more stammering and nervous twitching but, eventually, Goyle came to stand in front of Harry with his head bowed and his hands clasped behind his back. "I choose you," he said softly. "If you'll let me."

Harry scrutinised the boy for a moment but didn't sense any deception from him. It would be a long time still before he could actually trust Goyle but, for now, he could rely on his sense of self-preservation.

"Join the club," he said, pointing with his thumb behind him as to tell Goyle where to go. He obeyed immediately and seemed to release a sigh of relief.

"Potter, let me join you as well."

Surprised, Harry shifted to look at Daphne Greengrass. "You?" he asked.

"Look, I never actually wanted to do this thing," she admitted. "But if it hadn't been me –"

"I know," Harry said, remembering the Slytherin campfire from so many nights ago.

Greengrass raised her chin a little, holding her bound hands in front of her. "Well, then you'll also know that I'd take any opportunity to escape this madman's grasp."

"Traitor," Parkinson hissed but everyone ignored her.

"Let me go, Potter," Greengrass said. "and I promise that for this night at least, I'm on your side."

Harry smirked. "That's good enough for me," he said. One night was all he would need. Hopefully.

One look at the defiant faces of the last of them was enough to realise that not only Parkinson but also Zabini and Crabbe would never stand by him.

"You'll all regret this," Zabini spat, his fury mostly directed at the other Slytherins. "You know you will."

"Maybe so," Draco drawled. "But at least, we will have tried something."

"It's too bad," Harry said. "But it's time for you to go to sleep now." He kneeled next to Zabini first and looked him straight in the eye.

**Careful now. Use the utmost precision or face the risk of mentally wounding him. Not that that would be a great loss at this point.**

_Hush. I'm trying to focus._

It was important for the minds of the three Slytherins to be inaccessible to Voldemort in the upcoming battle. Knocking them unconscious wouldn't suffice. So Harry had the choice. Kill them, or block their minds. It was not something he had tried before but with Severus' guidance, he was sure that he could manage it.

It was surprisingly easy to penetrate the minds of the three stubborn Slytherins. Somehow, Harry had expected them all to have some sort of understanding of Occlumency but, in the end, they too were but children.

Carefully and while listening to whispered instructions in his mind, he sealed off their minds. No matter who won this, someone would be able to release them from Harry's admittedly amateurish block. Be it Voldemort or Dumbledore. They would only need to achieve some sort of physical contact with them.

Draco clicked his tongue when Harry was done. "Goodness, Harry – I can call you Harry now, I presume – the amount of unnatural and sudden abilities you always seem to conjure out of nowhere is astounding."

"And a tad frustrating, really," Ron chuckled.

"Truer words were never spoken, Weasley," Draco said. "Though you could loose the 'tad' and change the 'frustrating' into 'aggravating'."

"Are they ah… alright?" Theo asked.

"I think so," Harry said. "They should be fine, in the end."

_How's everything on your end?_

**Dreadful. For the Dark Lord, that is. Would you like to see?**

Harry didn't think he wanted to see any more unnecessary death, no matter how convenient they were for him.

_Not this time._

**Very well. Suffice to say that there aren't many Death Eaters left alive. And those that are, are very much unable to be of any more use to the Dark Lord.**

_So next, I need to –_

**Go somewhere quiet. Do so quickly before he starts lashing out.**

Nodding mentally, Harry forced himself away from his mind and looked at his allies. "I need to go now."

"What?" Draco said. "First you rally your troops only to go fight alone? How does _that_ make sense?"

Harry sighed. "It makes sense because none of you has a link to Voldemort. I'm the only one who can complete the next step. Look, you may not understand it yet but you fulfilled your purpose."

"Not yet, we didn't," Neville said, taking a step forward. "At least let us share our magic with you."

"That's a great idea!" Ron said in excitement. "That way, it will be as if we're fighting right there alongside you."

Harry frowned. "Share your magic? What do you mean?"

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "I suppose that muggle upbringing left you with some serious holes in your knowledge," he said. "It's a pureblood thing. A sort of ritual, really. It doesn't take a lot of our magic but when all of us do it, it should give you a serious boost."

Harry hesitated.

"Harry, it's fine," Ron assured him. "It's a good idea, really. Let us do this for you. Since there's nothing else we _can_ do." Everyone else nodded their heads in agreement.

"Fine," Harry then agreed. "If you think it will help."

"Oh, it will," Draco said as he drew his wand. The others all did the same.

"Do I have to do anything?" Harry asked.

"Just stand there for a bit," Neville said. "And trust us."

Harry chuckled. "I thought I already did."

"Stop talking," Draco drawled. "You're ruining the ritualistic tension."

Harry rolled his eyes but did as he was told. As he stood there, all of his allies – old and new – touched him with the tips of their wands. It was a very light touch. Even more so than when someone extracted a memory. All of their wands started glowing with a faint blue light that grew brighter as time lapsed. No one spoke and all Harry could hear was the movement of the various small animals in the area as well as the thrilling of the birds. A gentle breeze moved Harry's hair in the wind and seemed to ground him in the moment. It was a mere moment. A fragment in an otherwise lengthy ordeal. But it felt significant. Important. Profound.

Harry could feel the magic flowing through him. It was almost like Occlumency in a sense. He could still recall the first time Severus had invaded his mind and how different his presence had felt. This was similar. He could easily make out everyone's magic as it flowed through him, seemingly looking for a place of their own. And – if he really focused – he could make out just what string belonged to whom. Even as they became a part of him.

Then, everyone slowly withdrew their wand and looked at Harry as if they all expected him to make the next move. The thing was, that Harry didn't know what to say. He felt stronger and almost as if he was shining. But he also felt as if he had just been given a priceless gift that he could, in no way, repay.

"I," he stammered. "This is… too much, I think."

"It's nothing," Theo said.

"You can repay us by killing You-Know-Who," Michael said.

"Just get back at him for what he did, Harry," Ron said. "I'm just happy that I can help you do this."

"It's up to you now," Hannah added. "Give it your all, okay?"

Harry nodded and grinned. "Pack your things," he said. "Because, soon, we'll be getting out of here."

It was hard to leave them all behind like that. But time was of the essence and Harry would never forgive himself if Severus ended up as Voldemort's scapegoat simply because he had been dilly-dallying.

* * *

Harry ended up sitting down by the lake where he had first caught a fish. He looked up at the sky and smiled at the peace he found. The sun was starting to set and bathed the entire lake in an orange glow. The outline of the moon was already vaguely starting to show but no stars had made their appearance yet.

"It really _is_ beautiful here."

Harry jumped slightly when he heard that all too familiar voice that he hadn't heard outside of his mind for a while now. He looked to his left to find Severus standing there. Though, not really. The fact that he wasn't real was made clear by his breaking outline and the fading of his black robes as they mixed with the greenery in the back. But his eyes were stern and hopeful and they met Harry's gaze with great certainty.

"When this is all over, we will come back here."

"Can I do it?" Harry asked, even though he knew he had no choice.

A hand rested on his shoulder though Harry could not feel its weight.

"You can," Severus said easily. "All the pieces are set up. All you need to do is move them forward."

Harry swallowed. "Okay," he said. "What do I do now?"

"Focus your mind. Find mine. As I'm still near the Dark Lord, I will guide you inside his. He won't be expecting it now so it shouldn't be too difficult."

"Will you… stay with me?" Harry asked softly. He didn't want to admit it but he was scared. Nothing he would ever do would be as important as this moment right here. If he messed this up…

"I will," Severus said calmly. "Until the end."

Harry felt determination well up inside of him. He met Severus' gaze again and nodded firmly. "Alright," he said. "I'm ready."

Harry might have imagined it but he could have sworn he saw pride flicker in Severus' eyes before their minds seemed to meld and swept away towards the clearing in which Voldemort resided.

To say that the entry into the mind of said madman was anticlimactic would be an understatement. Whatever the reason was – and Harry expected that reason to be Voldemort's increasing insanity combined with the link they already shared – his shields were down at the moment of impact and Harry had no problem venturing directly into the deepest, darkest part of his mind.

Said part looked like a cave, not unlike the one Harry had found the Slytherins in. But when Harry glanced around him, he could see that the cave's exit bordered on the sea. Sharp rocks protruded from violent waves as a storm raged outside. The cave itself was black as night with only a few torches to light its walls. The green flames didn't flicker but appeared to be frozen in time.

"Voldemort?" Harry called out when he saw no sign of the man.

He tried again when there came no reply. "Tom?"

Then, a short laugh reverberated off the walls. "I really do despise that name."

Out of the looming shadows, stepped Voldemort. He looked like the man he must have been before he turned into the monster of today. Young, charismatic, handsome. But he still had that same devilish look in his eye. The one Harry had always seen in his every encounter with the man.

"Have you come to do away with me, Harry?" Voldemort asked, tilting his head to the side as if he was merely being inquisitive. "Haven't you murdered enough for one day?"

"I haven't murdered anyone," Harry said.

"No?" Voldemort asked, taking another step closer. "What about my faithful servants, then? You understood the rules of the ritual before you took advantage of them, didn't you? You knew they would die."

Harry scoffed. "You're not putting this on me, Tom," he said. "Nice try, but that won't work. Not anymore."

That seemed to anger Voldemort. "Is that so?" he snapped. "Then, I suppose I will have to use some more… violent means. Since you so willingly walked into my own territory, I'll be happy to make you feel welcome. Avada Kedavra!"

Harry dodged the spell, not sure if it would have killed him if it had hit in the first place. This all went on inside Voldemort's mind, after all. Nevertheless, he wouldn't be taking any chances.

Voldemort waved his wand again and numerous spiky rocks levitated off the floor, pointing in Harry's direction before they were all sent off flying with another wand movement. Harry quickly conjured a shield charm and was relieved to see it work, even in this mindscape.

Severus was not helping yet but Harry could feel his presence. Presumably, the man was waiting for the right moment to strike. To knock Voldemort off balance.

He tried countering with an Expelliarmus, but Voldemort blocked it easily. He did the same with all of the other curses and hexes Harry sent flying his way. He never dodged a single one of them, probably because he was so sure of his own power. Harry, in the meantime, ducked and dodged whenever he could. The years of being chased by Dudley as well as his practice in Quidditch had made him nimble, and he was making sure that he used that trait.

"Stop prolonging your demise, boy," Voldemort shouted as the wall next to Harry exploded. "No matter what you do, you will die in the end."

"You should probably consult a different seer, Tom," Harry jibed. "Because you've got your facts all messed up."

"You insolent –"

Voldemort's rage kept him from finishing his sentence, but he seemed to invoke a spell of an entirely different calibre. Out of the darkness, bleeding black mist appeared as the torches illuminated it. It quickly took the shape of an emaciated horse; its eye sockets empty yet glowing with light. It stamped heavily with its hooves and smoke came out of its nostrils at regular intervals.

_What the hell?_

Before Harry could really understand what was going on, the horse raced towards him and knocked him off his feet. Harry gasped in pain as the heavy stallion rushed into him but quickly got to his feet. The horse turned to face Harry and stomped its feet once more, getting ready for another charge.

But then, Harry could feel the magic he had been gifted interact with his surroundings as if it was reaching out. Some of it flowed out of him and combined into a golden ball of light that made Harry shield his eyes. A flash and a bang later, Harry looked again to see a giant golden lion stand in front of him. It growled at the horse, flashing its fangs and flexing its claws. Its tail swept from left to right and it crouched low to the floor as if ready to pounce.

_What's going on here?_

**While the Dark Lord has certain things that help him in this fight, it would appear that you have your own source of power.**

_My own… it's not my own. It's my friends' magic._

**Which they gifted to you. Dumbledore did always say that love was your most powerful weapon. It pains me to admit that he might have been right.**

The horse ignored the danger and charged once more. But the lion was quicker. It jumped at the horse's throat and dragged it off course and, eventually, onto the ground.

"No!" Voldemort screeched. "Stop!"

But the lion ripped and tore away at the horse until it released one final cry of anguish after which it exploded with such dark intensity that it almost blew Harry straight out of Voldemort's mind. Thankfully, he could feel the tether of Severus' magic keep him there. The lion walked over and nuzzled Harry's hand with its giant face before it disappeared, leaving Harry with a strange sense of loss.

Meanwhile, Voldemort was positively fuming. "How dare you?!" he shouted. "Do you have any idea what you've done?!"

Harry didn't. Not really. But he didn't think that reply would do him much good right now so he simply took an offensive stance and held his wand at the ready. Whatever tricks Voldemort still had up his sleeves, Harry would be ready for them.

Voldemort slowly ran a hand through his hair as he tried to compose himself. "No matter," he mumbled. "No matter at all. There's still more. There's still plenty. Tell me, Potter, where did that power just now come from?"

Harry scoffed. "Do you really think I'm about to tell you? Merlin, you must be even more of a fool than I already thought."

A blasting curse narrowly missed Harry's ear. "You dare!" Voldemort screeched.

Harry still wasn't sure what had just happened but Voldemort's reaction was enough incentive to provoke another one of these… appearances. And the angrier he got…

And there it was. Another beast manifested in Voldemort's proximity, slowly taking on the form of a very large pit viper. Its scales were green and glistened heavily in the torchlight. Its tongue slid in and out of its mouth as it focused its attention on Harry, hissing softly.

**First Gaunt's horse and now Slytherin's snake. He's using his Horcruxes.**

Harry backed off a few steps as the snake towered above him. Harry dodged as it tried to strike him, though it was a narrow escape.

_Okay, whatever just happened… please do it again!_

Maybe it was a coincidence but that was the moment the magic inside of Harry decided to respond again. But this time, it formed into an enormous bronze eagle. The snake hissed and tried to strike but the eagle was too quick and grabbed the green abomination with its talons. Harry watched in awe as it tore the snake to shreds, gobbling up the pieces of meat that it ripped away. When the snake stopped moving, there was another explosion followed by another wave of dark and ominous energy. It was all Harry could do to hang on to Severus' magic lest he was blown away. The eagle flapped its majestic wings a couple of times before disappearing as well, leaving the two wizards alone again.

Voldemort was seething and breathing hard with barely controlled rage. His shoulders were hunched and his fist was clenched tightly around his wand.

And then Voldemort's control broke. His eyes snapped up, tinged red as he locked onto Harry. With his wand out and his free hand outstretched, he let loose hex after hex, blasting and cutting Harry from all sides. And while he could jump out of harm's way before, his earlier encounter with the horse had left him injured and unable to move as quickly. That's why Voldemort's spells were able to nick Harry every now and then, injuring him further and weakening him considerably. Voldemort was just about to unleash another spell that Harry was sure would hit him right where it intended when Severus stepped out of the shadows.

This stopped Voldemort in his tracks.

"Severus?" he said, his voice fuller of doubt than Harry had ever heard it.

"My Lord," Severus said confidently.

"How did you get here?" Voldemort asked. "Or rather… _why_ are you here?"

"I am here to offer my assistance, of course," Severus said slyly.

"Do you really think I _require_ such assistance?" Voldemort spat angrily. "I'm fighting a child. A _child_! I do not need your help to kill him. How dare you even –"

"You misunderstand, my Lord," Severus interrupted smoothly. And then, with a wand movement so smooth that Harry – who had watched for it – barely saw it coming, Severus cast a cutting curse that would have hit Voldemort right in the chest if he hadn't moved away at the last moment. That still earned him a nice and deep cut all the way down his left shoulder, though, as well as a look of pure astonishment on his face.

"Severus!" he cried out. "How dare you? You are counting on the wrong master. I _will_ win this!"

Severus took a few backwards steps closer to Harry, keeping his eyes trained on Voldemort. "Ah, but you see," he said. "It's not that I'm siding with whomever I believe will win. I'm siding with those I believe in, no matter the outcome."

Voldemort's youthful face seemed to be decaying into insanity as he took in his follower. "For how long?" he growled.

"Pardon?" Severus asked casually.

"FOR HOW LONG HAVE YOU BETRAYED ME?!"

Voldemort's pure anger shook the walls of the cave but not Severus' resolve.

"Since the night you targeted Lilly," Severus said, his voice now cold. "Ever since then, I was Dumbledore's man. Not yours."

Voldemort's breathing got heavier and he grabbed his head with both of his hands. "It was you all along," he muttered. "It was you. You, you, you! You destroyed my ritual. Your potion-"

"Oh, I certainly sabotaged the ritual to the best of my abilities," Severus said graciously. "But, in truth, we can't deny that Harry simply proved to be far more powerful than you."

"No, not him," Voldemort spat. "It's because of those little traitors. Their actions –"

"Were a result of their love for Harry. Which is exactly why you've lost. And why you will die here today."

"Die?" Voldemort repeated. He laughed. "DIE? _Me_? I cannot die. I have defeated death a long time ago. And tonight, you will see exactly why that is."

As expected, a third animal started to appear out of the mists. Vaguely, Harry realised that there were four houses in Hogwarts and that Voldemort had five Horcruxes. But that was a problem he would have to deal with later. Harry watched as a black badger materialised in front of him, snarling and foaming at the mouth. Its claws were long and looked ready to kill. This time, Harry didn't wait for any miracles. He tapped into the magic that was practically vibrating within him. And then, the same kind of snake that he had bested before appeared on his side. This one, though, was silver instead of green. It looked at Voldemort's badger with focus and Harry could only hope that its poison would be enough.

"Helga Hufflepuff's cup, I, presume?" Severus said, his trained eyes focused on the beast. "You're running out of playthings, fast."

"Shut up!" Voldemort yelled and, as if taking it as a command, the badger charged forward.

These two animals were a much more even match-up than the last ones had been. But Harry couldn't really focus on the battle since Voldemort was no longer standing idly by as his Horcruxes fought for him. As his badger lunged, bit and clawed, he cast hex after hex. Harry occasionally felt pain radiate through his body when a spell would connect but he had no time to check for injuries. No time to worry.

More often than not, he managed to block the things Voldemort threw at him. And sometimes, Severus did it for him. They duelled as if they were in sync and despite the terror and imminent danger, Harry felt energised and in his element.

A cry of anguish caused Harry to glance at the two animals. The badger fell to its side but the viper hardly moved anymore. Nevertheless, it seemed to have fulfilled its purpose when the badger's aura exploded. Harry was ready for it, though, and held on for dear life.

"You must be really proud of yourself," Voldemort said, his voice angry and scratchy. "But I can always make more. In fact, you and your dear professor seem like excellent catalysts, don't you think? And I still have all of those hostages."

In the past, that would have surely riled Harry up. But he could recognise the provocation for what it was.

"I won't give you a chance, Tom," Harry said as casually as he could manage. "This is where you will finally die."

Voldemort laughed humourlessly. He was bleeding but so was Harry. And it was difficult to figure out just who was hurt the most. But Harry had Severus and that had to count for something.

"I am done discussing this," Voldemort said. "Avada Kedavra!"

"Expelliarmus!"

It had only occurred once before. In the graveyard. But Harry and Voldemort's wands connected with one another once more. Green and red fought each other in a battle of wills. Severus tried to get to Harry but from the corner of his eye, Harry could see that the man was facing a shield that he didn't seem to be able to penetrate.

By Voldemort's side, an eagle appeared. A dark blue one engulfed by blackened mist. Harry didn't hesitate. This might be the last thing he could do with his friends' magic, but he was not going to allow it to go unused. Next to him, a yellow badger was brought forth through the might of magic. It was larger than life and seemed eager to go up against its adversary. Or was it simply tuning in to Harry's own feelings?

They jumped at each other as Harry pushed at the connection he had made. He had done this before and he had been younger and less experienced. He could do this again.

He could see Voldemort's wand hand shaking and Harry wondered just how much damage the destruction of the Horcruxes had done to the man. Having your soul destroyed had to have some effect, after all. Harry's was taking the upper hand and so was the Hufflepuff's badger. Inside of the shrinking dome, they battled and screeched. Harry took a few steps towards Voldemort as his spell pushed the man back. He was almost there. Could practically taste victory.

Then the badger snapped the eagle's neck with its vicious fangs and dropped it to the floor before disappearing. The following explosion shattered the shield as well as the wand connection. Harry was thrown to the ground and clung to it as he waited for the wave of malice to disappear.

When it did, he found Severus standing next to him already.

**Are you alright?**

_I think so. But what do we do now?_

Voldemort got to his feet as well. He slowly raised his head and met Harry's eyes. His expression screamed his insanity and his smile was so wide that Harry expected the corners of his mouth to tear any moment now.

"You think you have bested me, don't you boy?" he asked much too calmly. "But I know that was it for you. Whatever magic you have used, I can sense that it's gone now whereas I –" he slowly raised his hand and Harry watched in horror how a column of smoke started appearing. "I still have one, more trump card. And there is nothing you can do to stop it."

Harry had seen Nagini often enough - be it in his visions or in real life - to recognise her when she appeared out of thin air. But she did so in the same manner that all of the other Horcruxes had appeared. Bigger than life and engulfed in darkness.

Harry stopped himself from taking a step back and raised his wand. He had fought a basilisk before. Surely, this couldn't be any harder than that. Only, this time there was no phoenix to heal him if he got bit.

Slowly, Nagini slithered across the floor, until its large body had surrounded Harry and Severus. They both started throwing hexes and curses at the snake but to little effect. All they achieved were some minor scorch marks that didn't seem to faze the snake in the least. The circle of Nagini's coils became smaller and she raised her head, bearing her fangs at Harry. He could hear Voldemort laugh in the distance but tried to tune it out.

"Severus," Harry said, keeping his eyes trained on the snakehead. "If we don't make it out of here –"

"Don't you dare say it," Severus said, though Harry recognised the fear in his voice. "It's not over until it's over."

Harry reminded himself of all the people that were relying on him. Not only Severus in this very moment but also everyone who had shared their magic with him. The hostages that were still tied up in the forest with no hope of being rescued. There was _something_ he had to do. _Anything_.

He tried digging deep. Tried finding the magic that had helped him before. He wanted to see if there was still some left for him to use. Just a bit.

_Drip. Drip. Drip._

And then he found something. It was not the same magic he had used against the previous Horcruxes but it seemed familiar somehow. As if it had always been there.

Almost instinctively, Harry raised his hand and, as it had done for Voldemort, smoke appeared next to him as well. And from it, a giant black stag appeared. It didn't look the same as the other animals had. No, this one exuded darkness as much as Nagini did right now. Nevertheless, its eyes were trained on its intended adversary and it stomped its hooves in anticipation.

Severus took a step back. "What is… no. It can't be." His worried gaze met Harry's for a moment but there was no time to contemplate its meaning.

The stag charged forward, its antlers lowered and poised to strike. The snake struck at its flank and Harry felt a sharp pain come from his own. He fell to his knees but the stag kept charging. Vaguely, he realised that Severus had kneeled down next to him.

Then, the stag pierced Nagini with its sharp antlers, causing it to hiss in pain. Harry started feeling dizzy and when Nagini's coils wrapped around the stag, that feeling only got worse. Severus was throwing spells but Harry didn't quite register where they went anymore.

The stag trampled on the snake, causing it to release it and it charged once more. This time, its antlers struck true and the snake was dead before it even hit the ground. It blasted apart and Harry could feel himself slipping. A strong arm wrapped around his waist, though, and he leaned into the touch.

"It can't be!"

Tiredly, Harry looked up to see Voldemort stare at the scene in horror. The stag hadn't disappeared yet but seemed about ready to charge at Voldemort.

"You are supposed to obey _me_!" Voldemort shrieked but Harry didn't understand why he would say that. His mind was already going numb.

"Get him," Harry said breathlessly.

And despite what Voldemort seemed to believe, the stag obeyed and charged at the man.

"No!" Severus shouted and, again, Harry didn't understand why he sounded so worried. He watched as the dark stag collided with Voldemort and caused an implosion so severe that the cave itself crumbled. He could feel how Severus was frantically trying to hold on to him but he was slipping away, pleasantly swaying on a calm wave.

When darkness came, it was deeper than any dark he had ever experienced. But it was also a gift and Harry was eager to accept it. He thought he had done a good job. And what more could anyone ask from him?

* * *

_Thanks for reading! I'm not entirely sure yet but the last chapter will probably be the last one. Don't forget to leave a review!_


	56. Chapter 56

_We are finally here. The very last chapter of this story. I hope you will enjoy it!_

* * *

**Chapter 56**

Darkness. That was all that Harry was aware of. He couldn't describe anything else even if he wanted to. Darkness was his only companion but that was fine. It didn't demand things of him. Didn't put him in impossible situations. And it didn't hurt him. Darkness was just… there.

But Harry did have questions. Was he dead? Was this what death was? If so, he was in for an eternity of boredom.

But then there was something else. Some kind of… noise, he thought. Yes, it was definitely a sound. He focused on it. Tried to look past the darkness but it didn't go away. And yet, he was starting to make out the source of the sound. It was a voice. No, there were two different voices. Harry knew both, he thought. He just couldn't remember from where.

He floated there for a long time. In between vague awareness and the danger of permanent unconsciousness. At least, that's what it felt like. And all that time, Harry was not sure of what direction he would prefer to take.

_I'm willing to get to know you. You. Harry Potter. If you'll allow me to._

Right. Someone had said that to him a long time ago. Back when Harry had chosen death instead of life. Yet, this person had selfishly refused to let him go.

Severus.

Slowly, the memory of the sardonic yet protective potions master seeped into Harry's blank mind. He _had_ gotten to know Harry. Intimately so. There had been… Occlumency, yes. And there was some sort of connection… though Harry couldn't quite recall how that had happened.

But Severus knew Harry now. So Harry should, in turn, choose awareness, he supposed. Otherwise, Severus would surely be disappointed in him. And Harry didn't think he could scrub any cauldrons right now. His arms just felt so heavy.

Why were they heavy again?

One of the voices nearby came from Severus, Harry now recognised. The tone was calm and soft but Harry didn't think it was directed at him. The other voice belonged to a girl, he realised.

_I'm glad you decided to tell us._

With a jolt that seemed to jumpstart his brain a little more, Harry realised who the second voice belonged to.

Hermione.

Why was Hermione talking to Severus? Maybe Harry had died after all because he just couldn't imagine a situation in which the two of them would talk to each other so calmly.

But it _was_ them. Harry was sure of it. The darkness was fading a little bit and Harry thought that he could probably see daylight behind his closed eyes. He tried moving his fingers but they still felt too heavy and it would take far too much effort to move them. The same went for his eyelids, apparently. So, for now, he would just try to focus on the conversation.

" – was the most difficult test, to be honest, but I think I probably still passed it." That was Hermione.

"I'm quite certain that you do not require my assurance to be sure of your own knowledge and skill level. Fishing for compliments from a Slytherin rarely works, Ms Granger." Oh, yes. That was unmistakably Severus.

"I didn't mean it like that, Sir. I just…"

"It is still your turn."

There was a long moment of silence before Severus spoke again. "I see that you've been practising."

Hermione chuckled. _Actually_ chuckled. In front of Severus. "I thought you just said that Slytherins don't often compliment someone."

"Ah, but I did _not_ say that," Severus replied. "I said that attempting to coerce one into providing you with one will almost always fail. Unless said Slytherin is trying to get something from you."

"So, you're saying that I could use a set-up like that to find out a Slytherin's intentions? Check, by the way."

"If you possess the finesse to do so, yes," Severus replied easily. "As for now, I would advise against that. Checkmate."

Hermione sighed. "Again?"

"Well, I'm not planning on going anywhere."

Harry listened to the sounds of what had to be the board being set up again. Why were they here? Why was _Harry_ here? What was going on?

The last thing he remembered was a stag. A black one. And then a sense of indescribable loss. Severus had been there as well, Harry knew. Were they still there, in that dark cave? But how did Hermione get there? And why were they playing chess?

"Has there been any kind of change, Professor?"

"No. Not for the better but neither for the worse."

"I wonder how he'll feel about missing his O.W.L.'s," Hermione said. "I would be devastated."

"I'm certain that he should not worry about such things if – when he wakes. The Ministry owes him a tremendous debt, after all."

Hermione scoffed. "In more ways than one."

"Indeed."

Harry didn't understand. Wake up? But he _was_ awake. He could hear everything they said. And Hermione had to be mistaken. The O.W.L.'s were still months away. Maybe she got to take them early or something. For outstanding academic prowess, perhaps. He just wished that he could tell them that he was here.

I'm awake. I'm here.

The words seemed to stick in the muddled cotton that was his brain. He wished that he could talk but his mouth didn't feel like it could open, even if he wanted it to.

"How is Mr Weasley doing?"

"Still punished," Hermione revealed. "Mrs Weasley has got him copying every textbook he has. Without magic."

"Well done," Severus said. "And has he made progress?"

"Oh, yes. He's copied every book from fifth year and is now working on those from fourth year. Well-deserved, if you ask me."

"I concur wholeheartedly," Severus said. "Though I presume that Harry will find it too harsh of a punishment."

Right. Ron had tried to kill him in that forest, hadn't he? Because his mother and brother… Poor Ron. It had been a horrid thing to do but Harry could still understand where he had been coming from.

I forgave him. Shouldn't that count for something?

"Sir?" Hermione asked. "How are _you_ doing?"

"Is there anything specific you are referring to?" Severus replied dryly. "I assure you that my complexion has always possessed the same pallor."

"Oh come on, don't do that," Hermione said. She almost sounded as if she were reprimanding him. _Severus Snape_! "You know very well what I mean. Have you been sleeping, at least?"

"I am certain that that is none of your concern."

"Sometimes, you're impossible, you know that?!"

_Tell me about it._

Harry heard the loud screeching of a chair and then the sound of a loud bang as if it had fallen over.

"Professor, what –"

"Quiet, Ms Granger," Severus urged. Harry heard more than felt the movement of Severus' robes as he approached him. He could practically feel the man staring at him but there was nothing he could do. It was as if he was trapped in his own body.

"Harry. Can you hear us?" The concern in Severus' voice nearly broke Harry's heart. It sounded so deeply weary that Harry couldn't help but wonder for how long the man had been worried.

_I hear you._

There was a sharp intake of breath and Harry thought he could feel someone grab his hand. "Can you squeeze my hand, Harry?"

Harry tried with all his might but he knew that he lacked the strength.

_I can't move. I don't think that I'm awake yet._

"You're awake," Severus replied. "But your mind seems to have blocked itself off."

_I don't know what's going on._

A hand covered Harry's forehead and then he felt the familiar warmth of Severus' painted waters as they entered his mind.

**I will help you. We can use this link. One last time.**

_There's so much I don't understand. Or forgot about._

**We can worry about that later. For now, I need you to relax.**

Harry didn't think he could relax more if he tried. But for Severus, he would give it his best effort.

_Are we still in the cave?_

**We were never in a cave, to begin with, Harry.**

_No. I distinctly remember a cave. There were snakes and… other animals I think. Hey, why would you bring Hermione here?_

**We are not in a cave and Ms Granger came here of her own volition. **

Harry tried thinking beyond his murky brain but he couldn't make sense of it.

_She wasn't invited, though. Voldemort doesn't like muggle-borns much._

Harry could feel that he was sort of distracting Severus but he needed to understand.

_Did she come here to bring Ron his textbooks? For his punishment?_

**Harry. You are in the Hogwarts medical wing. Everyone has been rescued from the forest months ago and the Dark Lord is gone.**

_Oh… When will he be back?_

**Never, this time. He's quite dead. Ah, here we are. Be quiet for a moment.**

Harry stilled the words in his mind while Severus did his thing. His soothing waters remained in Harry's vicinity and their calm almost rocked him back into oblivion.

Then there was some slight tugging at the back of Harry's mind. And it almost felt as if there was some sort of void there. As if Harry was missing something. Something important. The words were thought before he realised it.

_Did I get brain damage?_

Severus stilled for a moment.

**Your befuddlement is most likely caused by the mixture of potions you have been taking on a daily basis. Your confusion will clear soon after you manage to wake up.**

_But there's a hole in my head. _

**Nothing vital has gone missing. I assure you.**

Severus' tugging and prodding began anew and Harry decided to just simmer in his private thoughts. So something was really gone. But it was nothing too important, Severus said. An ear, maybe. Preferably his right ear, if he had to choose. He always faced off against his adversaries with his right side. He would need his left ear to hear what was happening behind him.

Or maybe he was missing a nose. It would be a fitting price to pay for offing Voldemort, he supposed. Though it would make him even less popular with the girls if that was the case. Did the magical world have prosthetic noses, maybe?

An eye would be the worst of it but Severus wouldn't think his eyes weren't vital, right? After all, he had his mother's eyes. They were important to a lot of people. Maybe, if he _had_ lost one, he could give it away to someone. Would Severus like that as a Christmas present? What potions needed human eyeballs, Harry wondered.

_Severus_?

**Hmmm?**

_I don't want to look like Voldemort_.

Harry could practically feel Severus sigh deeply. **Harry, whatever makes you say that?**

_The hole in my head… it's my nose, isn't it?_

**No, it's not your nose. Hold on for just a few more seconds. I've nearly got this.**

Feeling slightly flushed, Harry allowed Severus his requested seconds. And that was all it took. Harry felt relief wash over him, though he knew that it wasn't his. And then, Severus retreated from his mind.

"Professor?" Ah, that was Hermione again. "What just happened?"

Severus ignored her. "Open your eyes, Harry."

It was still hard. It was almost as if Harry had forgotten how to do so. He scrunched up his nose in concentration and heard Hermione gasp in response. And then, finally, he opened his eyes. Both of them. So he hadn't lost either.

"Harry!" Hermione made a move to throw her hands around Harry's neck but Severus stopped her with a firm hand on her shoulder.

Harry slowly raised both of this hands to feel his ears. Relieved to find them both still there, he dropped his hands back onto the mattress.

"I'm still in one piece," he whispered in relief. His throat felt dry and raspy but, almost immediately, Severus conjured a glass of water for him.

"Gently now," he warned. "A few sips at a time. Good. Now wait here while I go fetch Madame Pomfrey."

His glass still in hand, Harry watched as Severus took quick and steady strides before heading into Pomfrey's office. He glanced back at Hermione and saw how she was biting her lip.

"He's gone," he said. "You can hug me now." He put the glass down and sluggishly opened his arms as if to invite her and it took her but a mere second to comply. She all but flung herself at Harry and started crying into his pyjama shirt.

"I'm so glad you're back," she whispered. "I was worried that you were never going to wake up."

"I'm sorry," Harry said, still not sure what had exactly transpired. "I'll try not to do it again."

Hermione chuckled wryly. She still hadn't let go. "You really need a shower," she said sadly.

Harry flushed a bit. "I do? I'm so sorry. You er… don't _have_ to hug me, you know."

"Just a while longer," Hermione replied.

"Ms Granger!"

Severus and Pomfrey had suddenly come into view and Severus seemed to be more than appalled that Hermione had defied him. She quickly let go.

"He said it was alright," she argued.

"Be that as it may, you will not put any more strain on his body from here on out. Is that clear?" Severus growled.

"Yes Professor."

"Good. Now let Madame Pomfrey do her job. I presume that you wish to inform Mr Weasley as soon as possible."

"Oh, goodness, of course!" Hermione squeaked. "I'll be back later, Harry. Ron's going to be so happy!"

Madame Pomfrey ran a series of diagnostic tests that took over an hour to complete. Meanwhile, Severus didn't allow anyone else to enter the medical wing. In the end, though, both adults sighed in relief when all of the tests came back normal. Harry would have some trouble getting around at first because he hadn't used his limbs in such a long time but other than that, he would be fine.

"Does that mean I can go?" Harry asked hopefully. "I already missed a lot, didn't I?"

"More than you realise," Severus said. "I suggest that we move this conversation into my chambers where we don't take the risk of being interrupted. Does that sound agreeable to you?"

"Yes, please," Harry said gratefully. The fog was quickly lifting from his mind, now, and he thought that he saw things more clearly. "Let me just put on my robes."

Severus merely flicked his wand and Harry's pyjamas changed into his customary Hogwarts outfit.

"Oh. Thanks," Harry muttered.

"Don't forget his potions, Severus," Pomfrey said as she shoved a few into Severus' hands. Then she turned to Harry. "You have to take these once a day. Only until your muscle mass has become what it used to be."

_I bet it tastes horrible._

"Well, it surely won't taste like pumpkin pie," Severus said honestly. "Let's go."

They used the floo to get to Severus' quarters quickly. And it somehow felt nostalgic for Harry to do so. Sure, he had been released from these quarters but it hadn't been long after that that he had been whisked away to the forest. They both sat down in their customary spots and Harry folded his hands in his lap, preparing to listen intently. Severus conjured a tea set but poured himself a glass of whiskey.

"Where to begin," he mused.

"The forest," Harry urged.

"Ah, the black forest," Severus said. "An enormous stretch of forest somewhere in Germany."

"Germany?" Harry repeated. "Why there?"

"I assume that the Dark Lord didn't want to be found out before he could complete the ritual. No one could imagine that we were no longer in Britain. And even if someone had somehow deduced that we were in the black forest, it would still take weeks if not months for anyone to find us. Even with the help of magic."

"But what was he trying to do?" Harry asked.

"What he has always tried to do," Severus said plainly. "Acquire more power." He sighed and took a swallow of his whiskey. "The night in the graveyard the Dark Lord got the first taste of what your blood and your innate magic are capable of. I imagine that that occurrence is what instigated his plan this year. He found a ritual that would use the full range of your own magical core to strengthen his. And because your blood already ran through his veins, he was certain that he'd be successful."

"But it wasn't just about me," Harry pointed out.

"It was," Severus argued. "Everyone else was just a pawn. Imagine a chessboard. But this one only has a king on each side and besides that nothing else but pawns. And while the Dark Lord made it look as if your pawns were on his side, that was a lie. He needed them to kill you because, that way, the ritual would assign him the victor and grant him your power. It was as simple as that. The Death Eaters were there to share the costs of the ritual. He could have done it by himself but that would have meant him taking every blow when something went wrong and that's just not his style. The reason he gathered his Horcruxes is that, after the ritual would be completed, his magical core would be so different that the connection between him and his Horcruxes would disappear, leaving him vulnerable. And it's a good thing that he did that, really."

"People didn't really attack me, though," Harry said. "Only every now and then but even most of the Slytherins didn't have their heart into it."

"And that's precisely what prompted his downfall," Severus said. "He didn't understand the mindset of normal people. It is hard to kill another human being. Even if your loved ones are threatened. Not only that, but they all knew who they'd be helping if they killed you. And there were few students who truly wanted to assist the Dark Lord. The way that you orchestrated house unity was absolutely splendid. It was the key to his downfall."

Harry took a while, sipping his tea as he mulled that over.

"What about Mrs Weasley and Bill? And Neville's mum and dad? What about –"

Severus raised his hand. "I'm deeply sorry to say that loss of limb is not something we can restore. Not even in the magical society."

Harry bit his lip. None of them had deserved what had happened to them. How horrible.

"It is probably a small comfort," Severus then continued, "but we are able to produce some rather capable prosthetics."

"Right," Harry said, doubt disturbing his voice. Moody sure didn't paint such a pretty picture.

But Severus seemed to pick up on that. "Some people prefer to trigger horror and fear in others with their… predicaments. But not everyone has to. I assure you that suitable replacements can be bought"

"I'll help," Harry said sullenly. "I still have some money in my vault that –"

Severus interrupted him again. "There is no need for that either," he said. "Professor Dumbledore has sponsored each and every person that lost something in the final battle. He said that it was the least he could do."

"He's back then?" Harry asked. "Does that mean Umbridge is gone?"

Severus' face darkened considerably. "Oh, yes," he said icily. "She's gone from here. In fact, I escorted her into Azkaban myself just so I could be sure that there would be no interference from the ministry. But only after I… showed her the error of her ways, of course."

Harry couldn't help but smile a little. "What did you do?" he asked.

"Let's just say that I prepared some potions just for this occasion," Severus said. "Potions of the permanent variety."

"Meaning…" Harry urged.

"I believe that you've encountered enough violence for one lifetime," Severus said, waving the question away.

Harry nodded. Severus was probably right about that. There was one more thing he wanted to know about, though.

"Sir," he said. "I remember this black stag. In our encounter…"

"Ah, yes," Severus said. "The piece that went missing. The hole in your mind."

Harry huffed. "I'm going to need a little bit more than that."

"We've discussed the Horcruxes. And you managed to battle those in a most fantastic manner. But when the fifth Horcrux appeared, I was not sure how we would manage that. Until that stag appeared as well."

"What was it?" Harry asked.

"A sixth Horcrux," Severus said heavily. "Professor Dumbledore imagines that it was created when he killed your mother. By accident."

Harry was completely horrified. "What?"

"I'm afraid it's true," Severus said. "It was a surprise, however, that its allegiance belonged to you rather than to the Dark Lord. Professor Dumbledore has another theory as to why that is…"

"My mother," Harry said softly.

Severus leaned forward a bit. "Precisely so. The nature of her sacrifice bonded the Horcrux to you in a way that the Dark Lord could never have imagined. Its loyalties changed from the moment it nestled into your mind. It might be one of the reasons why the Dark Lord never managed to kill you before. What I have always perceived as luck might actually have been some kind of…innate understanding about how the Dark Lord moves and operates."

"It's gone now, though, isn't it?" Harry asked.

"It is," Severus said. "Whatever else it might have been, it was still a part of the Dark Lord's soul. It had to be destroyed. And so it was. It self-destructed when it collided with its maker in a most spectacular fashion."

"I remember," Harry said dryly. "I think I… miss it."

"It was a part of you for many years," Severus said. "That is only to be expected. But the feeling will fade."

They sat in amicable silence for a long time. Harry refilled his cup of tea a few times as he mulled over the information he got. Voldemort was gone. That was the most important part. He would never hurt anyone else again. Harry would finally be able to move on with his life. He would be able to live. But…

"Do I have to redo my fifth year?" Harry asked sullenly. "Hermione mentioned that the O.W.L. exams were over, right?"

Severus snorted. "Oh, I think not," he said. "The magical world owes you a great debt, Harry. And Fudge's resignation was not enough to pay that debt back."

"Wait, what?" Harry urged.

"You will proceed into your sixth year alongside your friends," Severus said. "Your O.W.L.'s have all been graded with a passing grade. You will be allowed into any class of your choosing."

Harry stared at Severus. "I'm still dreaming, aren't I?"

Severus laughed. "You are most certainly not. It's finally over, Harry. And you did so very well."

Harry smiled and took another sip of his tea. Severus' praise would never get old.

* * *

**Epilogue**

* * *

Spells were flying every which way, bouncing off of walls and leaving scorch marks in the wooden floor. Harry watched from behind his cover how Severus cast curse after curse at Sirius while the man valiantly tried to block each. If Harry didn't act fast, Sirius would lose. He grabbed his wand tighter and moved behind desks and tables. Scattered objects lay strewn across the floor and Harry had to do his best to avoid them lest he made a lot of noise. He knew that Sirius had noticed him and was doing his best to keep Severus eyes on him and away from Harry.

"Is that really the best you can do, Black?" Severus sneered.

"Oh, you have seen nothing yet," Sirius said, a maniacal grin spreading across his face. He waved his wand in an intricate pattern before flinging a curse in Severus' direction. He deflected it into the chandelier above them that now trembled dangerously.

This was Harry's chance. He leapt from the shadows and threw his arms across Severus' neck, forcing him backwards. The man stumbled and tried raising his wand but Harry grabbed his arm before he could. Sirius quickly disarmed him.

Breathing heavily, the three of them sank to the floor. Harry let Severus go and shot him a brilliant smile. "I can't believe you fell for that."

"I will admit that your skills in the art of stealth have improved vastly," Severus said. "Without you, I assure you that Black would have lost. Again."

"Yeah, yeah," Sirius said. He tossed Severus his wand back and used his own to repair what had been broken.

"Dinner is served!" Came a happy and familiar voice.

All three wizards got up eagerly, feeling especially famished after their work-out.

While Voldemort was now well and truly gone, Sirius still didn't like having Grimmauld Place all to himself. And even though Harry now stayed here during the summer holidays, the man still preferred to have as many people around him as possible. Being exonerated from all his crimes helped with that but he wasn't all that sociable around strangers just yet. Having the members of the Order stop by every now and then lifted the man's spirits tremendously.

When they entered the dining room, they found Molly Weasley bustling at the stove. Her mechanical arm was fitted with all sorts of handy cooking tools that she could employ with the click of a button. She had become so adept at using it that she cooked even faster than before.

"It smells delicious, Molly," Sirius said jovially. "You really are a treasure. Tell her, Severus!"

Severus sighed. "You understand my sentiments on the matter, Molly," he said evenly. "You truly are an accomplished cook."

"How'd it go, Harry?" Ron asked. He was helping his mother cook as he had done ever since they got back from school. At first, Mrs Weasley hadn't wanted to accept any help, almost insulted that she would need it, but now it was clear that she enjoyed having her youngest son's company.

"We beat Severus!" Harry said as he sat down. "Easily!"

"Easily?" Severus echoed. "Are you quite certain of that?"

"Okay, not easily," Harry admitted. "But without injury, at least."

"I will concede that point," Severus said as he poured himself some tea. "Do you require any assistance, Molly?"

"Of course not, Severus," Mrs Weasley said. "You just sit back and relax, alright?"

"Yeah, Sev," Sirius said. "Sit back and relax. You probably need it."

"Don't call me that, mutt," Severus warned. "You never know what I might let slip in your tea."

Sirius laughed. "I have the nose of a bloodhound," he said. "But you are welcome to try."

"Leave me out of it, please," Harry said. "It was hard enough to find the antidote to the last potion you – how did you say it – let slip."

"Ah, but you deserved that, didn't you?" Severus said slyly.

"It was a cruel and unusual punishment," Harry said.

"But it was hilarious!" Sirius pointed out, barking a laugh. "Too bad that Hermione found an antidote."

"Have you decided on what courses you're going to take yet, Harry?" Ron asked.

"Oh, I'm taking those necessary to become an Auror," Harry said easily. "You?"

Ron hesitated. "I would but –" he glanced at Severus. "I don't have an O in potions so I can't."

"Oh, I think you'll find that you can," Severus said easily.

"Really?" Ron asked, turning from the bread he had been cutting.

"It would appear that you will be getting a new more _lenient_ Potions Master next year," he said.

Harry frowned. "You're quitting?" he asked.

"Oh, most certainly not," Severus said. "But now that the ah… _curse_ has been lifted, Professor Dumbledore finally sees merit in me taking the Defence Against the Dark Arts post."

"No," Ron breathed, earning himself a smack from his mum.

"Oh yes," Severus said. "I think we will be starting the year learning about –" he winked at Harry, "Acromantulas."

Ron's whimpering showed that that had the desired effect. Harry burst out laughing, quickly followed by Severus.

Sirius smirked and grabbed a roll as well just in time for the cauliflower soup that was deposited into his bowl by Ron.

Harry smiled as he took in the scene. Now, this was what it meant to be a part of a family. It may not be conventional. And it definitely was strange in many ways. But Harry wouldn't want it any other way.

* * *

**The End**

* * *

_Thank you all for sticking around until the very end. It has taken me eight months to write this story and it sure has been a rollercoaster. The Subterfuge refers to so much more than the start of the story in which Severus goes to take Dudley's place. It also refers to Umbridge's position in Hogwarts, Draco's position with both Umbridge and Harry and, of course, Severus' position with Voldemort, especially near the end._

_I really want to thank my beta Pagemaste4TW (or SneakyPrawn on the Discord) who has spent hours of his life working on this story with me. He has given me ideas, brainstormed with me and really helped make this story into what it became. So thanks, Big Bad Beta. You were tough on me at times but we did it!_

_I am going to take a break now. I expect to be gone for a couple of months before I get started on a new fic._  
_Until that time, please leave me a review!_


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